Of Spells, Swords and Plasma Rifles
by Filthy Landlubber
Summary: The great Dragonborn, the greatest hero of Skyrim, gets dragged inside a Vault with the pull of a Dwemer lever, along with... another Dragonborn. With no means to escape the barren world, they have nothing to do but roam the Mojave wasteland, running into a certain Benny's victim along the way. Rated M for violence, sexual themes and some disturbing things I may come up with.
1. Misplaced

**AUTHOR'S NOTE  
>I do NOT own Fallout: New Vegas nor The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, which belong to Bethesda Softworks, nor the songs I may quote during this story, which belong to... Quite a lot of etiquettes, actually. If I did, I doubt I'd ever think about writing something like this.<br>Hello everyone, and welcome to this story. I warn you: English is not my first language, and it's my first work.** **That said, I think this story will have huge problems, nonsensical fragments, stupid humour and an humongous amount of bad literary solutions. Now, if you enjoy hurting yourself, reading bad stories and/or ****think I could ever come up with something nice, go on. If not, I suggest you go away. As much as I could like it, being my work, I am sure it will be a pretty bad thing. I accept any kind of review to become a better writer and correct errors (or horrors) in the plot's continuity or the story's grammar, anything ranging from constructive criticism and incitement to things like "GIT GUD, CASUL." It means you've read this, which actually means a lot to me.  
>So, boring wall of bold text, be gone from my sight! <strong>**Let the story begin!**

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><p><em>Sometimes I feel so out of time and place, trapped in a maze,<br>As if I were lost in someone else's life...  
><em>

**Sonata Arctica - Misplaced**

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><p>"How are the readings?" Someone asked from across the room.<p>

"Negative, as usual." Somebody else replied, bored, and tapped his fingers on the keyboard.

Jason couldn't blame them: making guard to that stupid special room was pointless and boring, let alone being assigned to one of the monitoring terminals. They had to watch a completely empty hall, and it was rumored to be like this since the Great War had started. The shifts were completely insane, too! Twelve hours a day of sitting on his ass on that uncomfortable metal chair, all while he couldn't even bring some music or something to read. Going to the bathroom was pure bureaucracy, since had to tell another guard, then he had to tell to a couple people at the terminals, and only then he could've gone to the toilet, but not without a signed permission. All to make sure that waste of space was safe. He had been assigned there for a couple of days, but they already felt like years to him.

_What could possibly happen in a motherfucking Vault? _He thought, and snorted, shaking his head. The weapons, at least, were nice. They looked like the ones used by the old American army, the one he'd seen in the documentaries his elementary teacher had made him watch, back in the school wing. At a closer look, however, their equipment was clearly superior, and better-looking: T-45d dark blue power armors, with the heaviest plates tinted matte black, and a yellow 24 emblazoned on the chest and back plates. Their weapons ranged from assault rifles to shotguns, like the one he had, all shiny and perfectly maintained. Everyone had lots of magazines, shells and frag grenades in various pockets on the armor, and their secondary weapon was a monstrous 12.7mm hand cannon, holstered on the left hip for a quicker extraction. _Nice equipment wasted for nothing._ He thought, sighing. _We could clean up the Mojave with all this unused shit._

"Wait, I've got contact!" One of the scientists a few metres from him screamed, excited. "Two lifeforms, at the opposite ends of the room!"

Finally, his years of training would've been put to good use. In a couple of seconds steps boomed through the corridor, then the door slid open, the guards' commander walking inside in his special, pitch-black armor.

"Alright, defense squad, with me!" He barked, deadpan, and the guards stood at once, readying their weapons. They were at least a dozen armed men, combat-ready. However, there was a strange figure among them, right behind the commander. It was...

The overseer?

Yes, it really was the overseer, who was wearing a bulletproof vest over her immaculate grey business suit, a small arm holstered on her right hip. She looked enthusiastic, even... dangerously so.

"What are we exactly going to do, sir?" Jason asked the guards' captain, clutching his shotgun tightly.

"I don't know, son. We've never received similar orders." He replied, uncertain. It was really strange, the guard had never seen the commander like that. "In any case, if they're hostile, don't give them a chance to strike back."

The overseer pushed them both aside, reaching for the blast door in front of them. The short woman gleefully took the small purse hanging at her side, extracting a small key, and inserted it in a lock. She turned it, giggling in excitement, and a small keypad emerged underneath it. She typed in an incredibly long code without the slightest hesitation, and an alarm sounded, lights painting the room orange as the four cameras were shut down. The few scientists in the room ran away as the blast door slowly slid under the floor, shrouded by the fog the cooling systems made. There were two people at the far end of the room, standing side by side. The feeble light, however, made it difficult to see them.

"Welcome, welcome!" The overseer cheered, widening her arms in a large hug, as to embrace who or whatever they had taken. She looked like a kindergarten teacher, not the leader of a Vault.

"Where in Oblivion are we?" One of the two spoke, a man. He had a deep, gruff voice, tinted with anger.

"You are in Vault 24, my dears!" She replied, as if she was speaking to children. "We have been waiting for you two a long time, and that time has finally come! My predecessors at Vault-Tec have given me documents telling this would've happened, and I just need you to follow us. You will stay here, and-"

"You're saying we are your prisoners." The other spoke, a woman. She had a clear voice, but she sounded irritated. "How can you hope to earn our trust?"

"Oh, no, no!" The overseer replied, nervous. "You are our guests and, as such-"

"I have had enough of this!" The man roared, wrathful. "I don't know how you have taken me and the girl into this room, but I am certain it's been because of that lever I pulled, same thing she did! This is a trap, and we all know it!"

The overseer snorted, angry. "Yes, it is a trap, congratulations for getting it." She said, slowly clapping. "I am not allowed to tell you how it's been constructed, but you are going to come with us, like it or not!"

The male voice laughed. "If your brutes are going to keep aiming their weapons at us, I am pretty sure it won't be a problem if you told. They're dead meat anyway."

As Jason shivered, the overseer shrieked in anger. "Commander, get the test subjects!"

All the twelve men rushed inside, save for Jason. He just stood there, petrified, and dropped his shotgun. As his comrades opened fire, a blue light shrouded the two. Bullets flew towards them for a good minute, but seemingly achieved nothing. As all the men reloaded, the shield disappeared and their bullets hit the ground, a thousand rounds softly clinging on the metal floor. The two looked at them.

Then they laughed.

"Did you really believe you could hold us against our own will?" The woman said, amused. "Under the threat of these weapons, not even a child would obey you."

He heard the sound of a big knife, maybe a sword, being unsheathed, and the soft crackling of fire.

In a matter of seconds, many security agents fell under the man's blows and... _fire_, while the woman shot lightings at them. Their power armors were worthless against the two's attacks, and he just stood, powerless, as his comrades were butchered. Soon, nobody was standing anymore, blood staining the once-shining metal floor, corpses stacked in front of the two, and the dreadful smell of roasted meat filling the air.

The overseer snorted, furious. "Alright, I'll have to do this by myself!" She shrieked, but not in horror, rather in frustration. She walked inside, aiming and firing her pistol. The man calmly walked towards her, bullets bouncing off his armor, and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her. The woman walked at his side.

"Neither of us would normally do this, but your inhuman apathy for your men's lives is disgusting." The male growled, and laid his other hand on her temple. The female did the same, placing her hands on the overseer's head.

The short, heartless woman screamed in pain for minutes, before she was finally dropped to the ground. Both the man and the woman snorted in disgust.

"This is the world awaiting for us?" She amuttered, shocked. "I... I couldn't have pictured in my darkest nightmare..."

"This sickens me." The man said, lifting the overseer. "And so do you."

Then, he slit her throat, blood flowing on the floor below, and dropped her lifeless body. Jason whimpered, and they both turned towards him. He looked at them wide-eyed, taking a few steps back, desperate. _No, no, no, shit, no..._

"You haven't attacked us, nor enraged us. Fear not, young man." The woman said, reassuring. He didn't dare looking at her. "You didn't follow that cruel woman's orders, be proud of this. We mean you no harm."

"Show us your face, take off that helmet." The man said, calm. "Don't worry."

He did as he told them, slowly taking his helmet off. The two people in front of him, however, terrified Jason instead of reassuring him.

They weren't human.

The male was tall, athletic, and wore a set of an ice blue armor, the plates reinforced with shining steel. His head was that of a lizard, though. He had emerald green scales, with darker stripes on his head, and sapphire blue eyes, black slits as pupils. He had spikes over his eyebrows and on his jaw and chin, and red feathers on the top of his forehead, accompanied by horns on the back of his head. The female was the same race as him, but was different. She was shorter and slimmer than the male, and wore long, grey, precious-looking robes. She had dark red scales and brown feathers, with ruby red eyes. She didn't have any spikes, unlike the male, and two ram-like horns protruded from the side of her head. They both had tails, and they were both a little taller than the guard.

He backed up into a chair, falling over. Two hands swiftly grabbed his wrists, pulling him to his feet. He slowly nodded, thankful.

"We shall leave this place at once, and never come back." The female said in her crystal-clear voice. "Nobody must know what happened here. You will tell there was a malfunctioning in the testing hall, causing an explosion which killed the overseer and her guards. You were merely knocked unconscious by it, having forgotten your shotgun in this room." She explained, and he carefully nodded. He didn't want them to get angry at him.

"Smart kid." The male said, chuckling, and moved the bodies around in the room. Then, he burned them down, the stench of scorched meat filling the air once again. He coughed, trying not to throw up at the smell. It was horrible...

"We are going to need two Pip-Boys." The lizard man said, coming back from the other room. He rushed to a cabinet nearby, grabbing two of the devices and carefully handing them over. They put them on in an instant, an error message coming from the gauntlets as they put them on. The female sighed, hovering her hand over both the things and transmitting a green pulse to them. They began working in an instant.

"Thank you, young man. We shall leave at once." The lizard woman said, bowing. "We won't need any-"

"No, wait, I want something else!" The male exclaimed, smiling. She sighed, gesturing for him to go on. "Don't suppose you have any music?"

The guard frowned at the request, then he hesitantly took his personal memory chip from the pocket on his chest. She took it and plugged it in her Pip-Boy, pressing a couple of buttons and extracting it shortly after. Then, she gave it to the male, who did the same, grinning.

"Now we truly are ready to go." He said, laughing. "Thanks for everything, boy. We won't forget you."

As they began walking outside, the female suddenly stopped. "Oh, I almost forgot." She said, chuckling. "Your story needs to be believable."

With that, she placed a hand on Jason's forehead, and he fell unconscious.

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><p>Keram-Rei pushed a couple of buttons on the control panel, turning the alarm lights and a siren on. The opening system was attached to the large, gear-like door, and moved it aside. Scorching winds entered the control room, and a dim sunlight shone on them. <em>We're in a pretty deep cave.<em> He thought, looking at the exit.

"So, ready to go?" He asked, gesturing for the other Argonian to come. She gracefully walked past him, raising her cowl, and exited the Vault. He put on his Stalhrim helmet, following her into the cave.

"You told that woman we pulled the same lever." She said, jumping over a rock. "But, in the brief time we were locked inside, I only said I had pulled a lever in a Dwemer ruin."

"You were in Blackreach, weren't you?" He asked, grinning.

"Yes, I was in Blackreach indeed." She replied, slowly coming to a halt. "How do you know this?"

He chuckled. "Well, I was in Blackreach, too. Fourth Era, 201, Heart's day. Well, the sixteenth of Sun's Dawn, to be precise. Correct?"

"By the Divines..." She muttered, stupefied. "But, how..."

"This isn't Nirn, that accursed Dwemer machine has brought us down to Earth." He sighed. "We're probably from different realities."

She looked at him, wide-eyed. "You... you may be right. But, this means..."

"We are different people, yet come from two identical worlds existing at the same time, yes." He said, smiling. "We are both Dragonborn, I sensed it the moment I've seen you."

"Like Miraak at the top of Apocrypha?" She asked, hesitant.

"When we read the Black Book for the first time." He said, his smile widening. "I see some differences in our attitude, figthing style and personality, but we are the same person indeed. Time flows the same, perhaps our story is similar, or it might be even identical."

"Fultheim, Alea or Vasha?" She asked, narrowing her eyes.

He grinned. "Astrid."

"I'm pretty sure it's identical." She said, sighing in relief. "I thought you had chosen to join the Dark Brotherhood, for a second! The way I see it, changes might have occurred when we have been asked to choose, but many things should be the same for both."

He nodded, and they began walking again, watching their feet. They finally reached the cave's end, revealing it had been dug into the side of a mountain, given the altitude and the slope. The Mojave desert waited in front of them, dead, scorching hot, the unforgiving sun burning high in the sky. The air was dry, but there was something wrong with it. They looked at each other, and recognized it as radiation. Non-lethal, of course, two centuries were far too long even for a worldwide fallout. The feeling was nonetheless unsettling.

"A whole world has been destroyed..." She muttered, speechless. _The Great War must have shocked her._ He thought, sighing.

"But, nevertheless, there is still life in these lands." He said, smiling. "It always finds a way to crawl back to its feet. Impressive."

She turned towards him, worried. "What are we going to do? There is no way we could come back to Skyrim..."

"I was beginning to get tired of it, honestly." He replied, shrugging. "Besides, I've always wanted to visit a desert. It's going to be really interesting."

She bit her lip. "But I loved the forests, the mountains, the snow..."

"We've been there for a year, it's time to move on." He motivated, patting her shoulder. "We are going to explore barren wastelands, devastated cities, fight radioactive beasts... This place is in far worse shape than Skyrim, we might aswell help rebuilding it."

She sighed, then nodded, looking into his eyes. "I shall follow your lead."

"Good idea." He said, smiling. "I didn't catch your name, though."

"Screaming-Eagle." She answered.

"Keram-Rei, my pleasure." He replied, as they both summoned Arvak, mounting the skeletal steed and looking at the horizon. "How about some music?" He asked.

"Sounds good to me." She replied, a faint smile on her face.

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><p>It was midnight when they finally reached the remains of a settlement. They had been riding in the desert for hours and hours, but he had his Deathbrand armor, made of Stalhrim, so the desert heat wasn't a real problem. Screaming-Eagle, however, wore heavy Archmage robes, and she had to get creative with frost spells to keep cool during the whole ride. Now, it was night, and a pretty cold one, too.<p>

They dismounted their steeds, setting foot on the cracked road below. There was a small building, in front of which were a railway engine and some rusting structures, probably important when the rail was still in use. The wooden shack had to be some sort of station, with buildings further down the road. There was movement in the destroyed city, people dressed up like the now-disbanded U.S. Army walking around or awaiting for orders.

"We will better pass the night inside here." The female Dragonborn said, anticipating him. "The place seems abandoned, even by those soldiers down there."

"If you say so." He replied, shrugging. "Shouldn't we use a disguise spell and ask what's going on?"

"I am too tired to cast anything. We will try tomorrow, don't worry." She insisted, opening the door and freezing on the spot.

The male Dragonborn reached her, pushing her aside. "What's the matter now..." He muttered, then looked inside.

There was a dog-sized scorpion, and it was crawling towards them. Keram-Rei sighed, charging his frost spell and freezing it. He crushed it with his heel, thousands of iced fragments flying around them. Then, he turned towards her, amused. She was frightened.

"Are you telling me you are afraid of insects?" He asked, barely holding back laughter.

She glared at him. "I absolutely loathe them." She hissed, recomposing herself. This time, he laughed, earning another glare from her.

"No, no, let me get this straight..." He managed to say, almost crying. "You are the Dragonborn, you have fought any kind of foul creatures, and insects scare you?"

"It was enormous!" She replied, offended. He laughed even harder. "Knock it off!"

"What were you looking at, exactly?" He exclaimed, a mocking grin on his face.

She outright punched him on the nose, showing an unexpected strength. Keram-Rei almost fell back, holding his snout in pain. He tasted blood, and could tell she had broken at least a couple of his teeth.

"I told you to knock it off, idiot." She growled, as he cast a healing spell to repair the small damage she had caused. _I should remember not to anger her again. _He thought, spitting blood and a broken tooth on the floor.

"I suggest we take a seat on those benches." He said, pointing at the green ones in the waiting hall. "Perhaps we could sleep on one of them, too."

"Good idea, I like it." She replied, pushing him aside and reaching for the seats. He sighed, following her and sitting.

He looked around the abandoned station, turning every once in a while to have a better look at the different cobwebs and the various shades of rotting wood. He sighed, bored to death. "What are we supposed to do now?" He asked, exhasperated by the silence.

"We could..." Screaming-Eagle scratched her chin, thoughtful. "Play a game!" She exclaimed.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "And what game, may I ask?"

"Okay, maybe a game is not a good idea..." She muttered. "What about exchanging war stories?"

"We have had the exact same fights!" He exclaimed.

"Hmph, you're right..." She said, frustrated. "Why don't you propose something instead?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Look, I won't say anything about what I would want to do right now. That's better for both of us."

She frowned, then gave him an upset look, speechless. _Good thing I didn't go into detail._

"I've seen bandits more delicate than you!" She finally managed to say.

"Hey, I'm just sitting here, I just avoided saying what I _would want _to do." He said, shrugging. "I bet you're thinking the same."

She was about to hiss something to him, then she closed her mouth, snorting in indignation and... embarassment? He just laughed.

"I shall not speak with you any further." She exclaimed, crossing her arms and recomposing herself. "I have a dignity."

"I'm sure that radscorpion would have something to say about your dignity..." He muttered, chuckling.

He avoided a boot to his face just in time. "Fuck you!" She shouted, furious. He bursted into laughter and, at the same time, the other boot got his helmet, getting stuck into the metal horn. She huffed in anger, ripping it off and creating an even larger hole.

"Oh, come on!" She exclaimed, throwing the now-useless boot on the floor.

Keram-Rei wiped his tears, then searched his small, enchanted satchel. Soon, his hand grasped something soft and warm, and he took out a pair of brand new fur boots, handing them over. They were glowing with a faint green light.

Screaming-Eagle looked at him, then she swiftly took them, turning around at once. "Thank you." She murmured, putting them on. They were a little large, but she could've just tied them tighter.

He nodded in acknowledgement, raising his hand, "Don't mention it. I think they're enchanted for sneaking, too. I used them when-"

The door creaked open, and the two froze on the spot. A brown-haired girl entered, the terminal on the counter catching her attention. She tapped her fingers on the keyboard a couple of times, and the safe on the floor opened. She took whatever was contents it held then, whistling, she entered the waiting room. The girl laid her eyes on the two Argonians, frowning deeply and taking a step back.

"Uhm, hi!" Eagle said, hesitantly waving at the human.

She waved back, then fell unconscious.


	2. Chronicles of Vengeance

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
>I do NOT own Fallout: New Vegas nor The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, which belong to Bethesda Softworks, nor the songs I may quote during this story, which belong to... Quite a lot of etiquettes, actually. If I did, I doubt I'd ever think about writing something like this.<br>Alright, this is our second chapter together, and I'm surprised someone actually liked the story and one even took his time to write a review, to which I reply:** **Dii shir Yunaar, Zu'u grit nii, fah rok los nonvul Siigonis.**** God, is that website awesome... Anyway, this chapter is a little longer than the other one, but I think anyone could've written it at least ten times better.**** Which I didn't, since that goes far beyond my capabilities. This time, we'll see who's the girl (but I guess everyone got it), I try explaining why some of my characters have stupid names, and we finally get some more action. Again, it's poorly written, I know it, but I hope you like it anyway. "See ya real soon, I'm sure!"**

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><p><em>I called in all favours, I bartered and bribed<em>,  
><em> I must find this turncoat, and find him alive...<em>

**Alestorm - Chronicles of Vengeance**

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><p>He huffed as he carried the girl to one of the benches. <em>She weighs more than it seems… <em>He thought, delicately laying the girl on one next to the door. Keram-Rei hadn't considered the difficulties of interacting with people who had never seen an Argonian, magic or… basically anything he knew. It wasn't Skyrim, after all.

"Very good." Screaming-Eagle said, patting his shoulder and crouching next to the wasteland dweller. "I'll see what I can do for her."

He frowned. "Can't you just… wake her up?"

"I highly doubt there is a spell for that." She replied, sighing.

"Great…" He muttered, rolling his eyes. "So, you're telling me you know how to make people faint, but not how to wake them up?"

"There is a limit to my knowledge, too!" She snapped, glaring at him, angry. "If a stupid spellsword knows something I don't know, though, he's more than welcome to try it on the girl."

He showed his teeth. "I'm a battlemage, not a 'stupid spellsword'. I am a master of Destruction, I'm fairly good at the art of Restoration, and I can work my way around the other schools of magic!" He growled, staring at her, then he sighed. "Well, there are the funny spells, too, but I doubt a mustache would help her."

She closed her eyes, massaging her temple. "Just shut up, and let me work."

He was about to say something, then nodded, leaning against the wall. Angering the mage would've been amusing, sure, but it wouldn't have hepled. So there he stood, silent, watching her work: she was using any healing and recovering spell she knew, trying to awake her. The girl had a surprisingly pale skin, given the desert she lived in, and chestnut brown hair. She wore a scruffy leather suit, reinforced in some vital spots, a Pip-Boy 3000, and a red military beret, which laid on the ground ever since she had fallen unconsious.

He picked it up, examining its features. There was an insignia on the front, a bear skull with crossed sniper rifles behind it, along with what looked like a motto. The male Dragonborn narrowed his eyes to read it, then he smiled.

"She's part of some sort of military force." He said, gaining the other's attention. "A sniper, by the looks of it."

"How could you possibly know it?" She asked, not even turning to see him.

"'_1__st__ NCR Recon – The last thing you never see_'." Keram-Rei read in a low voice, trying to sound grim. "Sounds pretty accurate for a sniper, if you ask me."

"Well, you…" She stopped, looking at the girl. "Wait, she's opening her eyes! Come here!" Screaming-Eagle exclaimed, gesturing for him to get closer. He kneeled next to her. She was actually moving her fingers, and was about to wake up.

The girl groaned, pressing her hand over her forehead. "God, what a nightmare…" She stood up. "Good thing those monsters are gone, I-"

She turned, staring at them in pure dread. The battlemage was about to burst out laughing. _That face is priceless!_ He thought, fighting to stay serious.

"Don't worry, we mean you no harm." The mage said, delicately laying a hand over her shoulder. "We know meeting two of our kind must be-"

"You're motherfucking lizard men!" The girl shouted, trying to get as far as she could from them. _That's the least cold-blooded sniper I could've ever imagined. _He thought, grabbing her arm and dragging her back to her original position, sitting back on the bench. She was about to shout something and hit him, then he put the red beret on her head. The girl silenced immediately, staring at him and tilting her head.

"Let's do this again: I'm Keram-Rei, and she's Screaming-Eagle." He said, smiling in amusement. "We won't eat you, that's for sure."

The mage gave him a surprised look, then focused on the human. "Who are you?" She asked.

"I-I'm the Courier." The other replied, hesitant. "But... what are you?"

Keram-Rei sighed. "We're Argonians, lizard people of Black Marsh." She frowned at the region's mentioning. "Oh, right, the Kingdom of Argonia is on Nirn, not Earth." He added. The girl gasped.

"You mean you come from another world?" She asked, incredulous, her eyes sparkling with excitement

"I thought that was pretty obvious." Screaming-Eagle dryly replied.

"What's it like, then?" The Courier continued, ignoring the female Dragonborn. "Where you come from, I mean."

"We've seen but a small part of our world, but I can say it's amazing." The mage replied, smiling. "There are green forests, frozen thundras, scorching deserts, high mountains, lakes and rivers, caves, ancient cities…"

"Well, we've also got Dragons, magic, Elves, Orcs, giants, demons known as Daedra, other Humans, cat people called Khajiits, reptile folk like us, and a lot of creatures absent on this planet." He continued, casually.

She looked at them wide-eyed, not unlike a little girl. "And you can do… magic?"

They both laughed.

"Of course we can, we're really good mages!" Screaming-Eagle replied, still chuckling. "Besides, the Magicka aura of this world is pure, as if nobody had ever used magic in millennia. We are even more powerful than before."

The girl looked like she didn't know how to react. Keram-Rei raised his hand in front of his face, a purple glow between his fingers, then he clenched his fist. A Flame Atronach erupted from the station's floor, gracefully hovering on the wooden planks. The girl's eyes widened even more as she looked at the fire Daedra.

The mage destroyed the summoned creature with a lightning, gaining a disappointed 'Oh!' from both the battlemage and the girl. "You said we're supposed to help people, I don't think setting up some freak show was included!"

"I was just showing her what we can do…" He muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Why are you here?" The Courier asked, now extremely curious.

The two Argonians exchanged a worried look, then he shook his head. "You don't want to know it. Trust me." The battlemage said, sighing.

"Oh, come on!" She protested, just like a child. "Why wouldn't you-"

"No, we won't tell you." The female Argonian interrupted, stern. "Remembering it is hard enough as it is."

The girl bit her lip. "Sorry."

"Anyway…" He said, trying to keep the discussion alive. "What brought you here, instead?"

"Oh, me?" The girl looked surprised by the question. "I didn't think anyone would've asked… I'm looking for the man who tried to kill me."

"Hmm, you're a sniper, it makes sense someone wants you dead." The male Dragonborn muttered, scratching his chin.

She frowned. "A sniper? Oh, wait, you mean this?" She smiled, then took off her beret, and they both nodded. "No, a friend of mine gave this to me, I'm not a sniper, he is. Well, he isn't with the NCR anymore, but still…"

"Then why would anyone want to kill you?" Screaming-Eagle asked.

"I used to be a courier, as my… let's say 'name' tells, and I happened to be carrying a really important package a really important man wanted. At all costs." She grimaced. "He made his thugs ambush me, tie me up, and then, after he'd taken that fucking chip, he shot me in the head."

Keram-Rei looked at her, incredulous. "You… you have taken a bullet to your head and survived?"

She nodded, grinning. "I wouldn't be looking for the bastard, don't you think? Besides, the thing's taken its toll. I can hardly remember anything from my old life."

"Oh." The male Dragonborn managed to say. A sad tale, and it envolved revenge. Needless to say, he was really interested: they had to start doing something for the Mojave. "We might be able to help you, despite our appearance."

"We aren't stupid, we might use magically enhanced disguises." The female Dragonborn interrupted, annoyed.

"Do you want to hide behind a mask for the rest of your life?" He replied, staring right into her eyes. "There is no way we can reach Skyrim again and, even if we manage to get back, there is no way to know if it will be the right Skyrim, either. Besides, most people around here can't be smarter than your average Stormcloak grunt, we will be seen as heroes sent from… whatever deity they believe in. Living among them should be extremely easy, after a couple of explainations."

She snorted, glaring at him. "Being worshipped by some idiot sure sounds exciting…"

"We might actually change this place, don't you remember what I've told you?" He said. "Do you remember the beggars in Windhelm before the battle? Or how the other Argonians at the docks lived? Or what the Gray Quarter looked like?" He insisted, still staring into her eyes.

She flinched a little, looking away. "Yes, I do…"

"Everyone here must live in an even worse state." He continued, gently holding her arms. "We could lead them, help them rebuild their world. We've already done something like that in Skyrim by killing Ulfric."

The mage looked at him, uncertain, then nodded. "Alright, if you say so…"

The battlemage smiled, letting her go. "I'm glad I've convinced you."

"So…" The Courier interrupted. "Are you going to help me or what?"

"Of course we are, uhm…" He looked at her, faintly smiling in embarassment. "What was your name again?"

"I haven't told you yet." She said, smirking. "It's Jagdpanther."

Both the Argonians looked at the girl in astonishment.

"What?" She asked, offended. "When I told you I couldn't remember my old life, that meant I couldn't even remember my name!" The Courier exclaimed. "I came up with it by reading a really old war book. It's supposed to mean 'Hunting Panther'."

"That name is ridiculous!" He exclaimed, laughing.

"Look, I'm just going to call you Panther, it's quicker." Screaming-Eagle muttered, sighing.

"Fine." The girl replied, crossing her arms. "Your names are too long, so I'm going to call you Keram and Eagle."

The mage looked offended. "I have been given that name, and I won't tolerate-"

"This whole thing is pathetic." He interrupted, chuckling and looking at them both. "Besides, I like the idea, a shorter name will be much more convenient for us all. Let's get moving." He said as he walked towards the door, then he stopped, turning towards them. "Wait, where are we heading?"

The other two giggled, then Panther answered. "New Vegas, that's where we're going."

"Isn't it supposed to be 'Las Vegas'?" Eagle asked, raising her brow. _She's right, the overseer's memories only mention 'Las Vegas', not New Vegas._ He thought, perplexed. _Why would anyone change a city's name?_

"I have no idea, I just know everyone calls it New Vegas." The Courier replied, shrugging. "They say that when the bombs fell, it hadn't been hit even once." She raised her eyes, daydreaming. "It's just like the Old World, life still goes on like more than 200 years ago. They say there's electricity, and running water, too…" He cleared his throat, gaining her attention. "Oh, right. We've gotta head North."

"Thank you." He smiled and nodded. "I say we can go now, can we?"

The two reached him as he opened the door, the quiet night sky awaiting outside: the stars gleamed high above them, and the moon was shining down on the barren wasteland. They began walking on the destroyed road, in silence, and Keram-Rei looked at the stars every once in a while, trying to concentrate on something else than dust, sand and overall misery. Panther was walking at the front, while he and Screaming-Eagle had to follow her.

"Fancy meeting you here, friend!"

The battlemage instinctively unsheathed his sword, readying a fireball in his left hand, and turned around in an instant. The mage had joined her hands on her chest, and had already formed a blue lightning orb.

Before them stood an automaton, a rubberized wheel serving both as a means of transportation and as sustainance to a bulky, headless, metal body. It was blue, rusting, and there was a screen in the middle of its chest. A smiling cowboy face was displayed on it.

"No, wait, he's good!" The Courier screamed, pushing the two aside and standing in front of the robot. The two Argonians slowly lowered their hands, surprised, and they both dissolved their spells. He still held his sword, though.

"It's good to see you again, Victor." She said, smiling.

The machine gestured a little. "Yup, but this is gettin' a might embarassing. People are gonna start to talk!" It said, pointing at the two Argonians, then laughed. Despite the appearance, its voice felt… alive, especially its laughter. It sent chills down the male Dragonborns' spine. _It's cold, lifeless, it's... wrong. And why didn't it show any signs of surprise towards us?_ He thought, glaring at the robot.

The girl giggled back. "How did you get here?"

'Victor' shrugged. "Just rolling along my spurs. Looks like I just might make it to New Vegas after all."

She bit her lip. "You see what happened in there?"

"Yup." The machine did something resembling a nod. "Guess it's just down to you and fancy-pants. I wouldn't worry 'bout him, he looks all hat and no cattle, if you ask me." _Why does it have to talk like this? _He thought, frowning.

Panther turned towards the Argonians, and they both nodded. "Well, it was nice seeing you again, Victor, but we've gotta go. Goodbye!"

The robot chuckled. "Look me up when you get in New Vegas, I'll buy the first round." Then, after bowing at the three, it rolled off into the night. Keram-Rei looked at it, until it was nothing more than one of the many shadows in the night.

"There was something about security robots in the memories, but nothing more than mindless hunks of metal…" The mage muttered, fascinated. "I wonder how it came to be?"

"Why does it know you?" The battlemage asked, blunt. He didn't like the robot. "And what were you two talking about?"

The Courier sighed. "Look, let's get moving, I'll explain along the way."

Their steps could be heard again in the night, and they passed by an outpost. There was someone standing as a guard, next to a burning barrel, but it didn't look like he or she had seen them very well, there hadn't been any screams. The guard just waved, and they waved back. They kept going, choosing to follow the railway instead of the road. On the distant horizon, a tower could be seen, sparkling in red, white and gold lights, smaller buildings underneath it. _Looks like New Vegas to me. _He thought, snorting in satisfaction.

"Alright, I'm telling you." Panther said, mistaking his snort as an incitement. "The bastard I've told you, Benny, left me for dead, right? Well, I wasn't, and Victor dug me up and brought me to a Doctor. He's my friend, I owe him my life."

"Why do you insist on calling the machine an 'him'?" The female Dragonborn asked, curious.

"Well, he's got a man's voice." She replied, shrugging. "I guess that's it."

"Hmm, that's an interesting aspect." The other said, scratching her chin.

They didn't talk for a while, walking for a good hour under the... _Midnight_ sky. Keram-Rei looked at his Pip-Boy to check the hour. Shortly after, they reached an abandoned train depot, and shifted back to the road. There were signs at its sides, advertising weapons, petrol, casinos and, by the looks of it, a brothel. He chuckled at the sign, earning a glare from the other two. After no more than a couple of minutes, the party finally reached the city's outskirts, delimited by rubble and an old airport, still standing. There were high walls surrounding it, guard posts here and there, as if it had been transformed into a military base. The the ruins of an ancient city still stood all around them, and the civilized New Vegas was surrounded by a wall of rubble and scrap metal, in grim contrast with its appearance.

Then, shots.

They came from their left, and all the three started running towards the source. There were a dozen savages screaming and hunting down a man, ultimately killing him with laser weapons, and reducing him to a pile of ashes.

"Motherfucking Fiends." Panther muttered, her voice filled with hatred as she lifted her lever-action rifle. The men and women wore pelts, bones and rusting metal sheets as protection. Some carried what looked like machetes, some gunpowder guns, and two of them, clad in an heavier armor, carried laser rifles.

Keram-Rei unsheathed his sword, grinning. "WULD NAH KEST!"

He felt the wind shrouding him, and he found himself in the middle of a dozen surprised bandits, then he waved at them. "Well, good evening!" He said, smiling.

They readied their weapons, and he struck like lightning. His fire spell incinerated one of the shooters, as his sword spilled the blood of one stupid enough to get close to him. Screaming-Eagle's lighting bolts took down at least three of them, their bodies still smoking and convulsing afteir their deaths. A bullet bounced off his armored shoulder, and he turned, rushing towards a ragged-looking woman. He took her head clean off, and the body fell shortly after. His fellow Dragonborn had summoned two bound swords, and was fighting with great majesty and swiftness. He chuckled. S_he didn't look like she liked weapons_. Immediately, he focused on a man sneaking up on her, and promptly pierced his skull with an ice spike. She disemboweled her last opponent, then turned to look at him, and smiled. He nodded back.

The sound of a weapon dropping caught their attention.

Only one of the Fiends was left standing, a bearded, dirty man. He wore a bull's skull as a hat, rough-looking furs, and was shaking.

"FAAS RU MAAR!" She shouted, and the man fell down, weeping and covering his face. They both reached him, and he almost felt pity for him. _Almost._

She took the man's hands away, and looked into his eyes. He grinned, standing right at her right side. "You shall tell your friends what you have seen, you scum." She hissed, menacing. The Fiend nodded, dread in his eyes. "Tell them we are here to cleanse this land, and they shall feel our wrath befall upon them with the force of a furious storm. Now, go!"

He crawled back for a while, then turned around and ran, screaming in terror. They both laughed, looking at the man running for his life.

"What the fuck…?" Panther managed to put together, shocked. He turned, and saw her wide eyes looking upon them.

"This is how we fight." He grinned. "Well, I guess the last part was more of her fighting technique, but that should give you a general idea."

"You have seen the power in us, our strength, our magic, and our Thu'um." The mage said, smiling. "No foe can withstand neither of us on the battlefield, and now we are together. We will crush every enemy of this wasteland."

The Courier flinched, then recomposed. "Glad to be on your side." She said, nervously laughing.

He chuckled, wiping the blood off his face. "Being our enemy isn't what-"

More gunfire caught their attention, and both Dragonborns summoned Arvak and rode into battle. In a matter of seconds, they reached other Fiends, which were pinning down two people dressed in a military uniform.

He let out a blood-curdling battlecry, jumping off his horse and landing right on one of the marauders, smashing his face with an armored fist. The mage was now on foot aswell, taking cover and occasionally throwing fireballs at them, eventually hitting one. He calmly walked towards the remaining marauders, beheading one with a well-placed blow, and taking the other's head between his hands. The battlemage crushed the man's skull, its contents pouring on his hands and chest.

"I've never felt this good!" He shouted, laughing and beating his free hand on his chestplate, blood dripping from his gauntlets. The mage giggled, walking towards him and tapping a finger on his shoulder. He turned towards her, still grinning.

"I believe someone needs an explaination." She said, pointing at the two soldiers. He nodded, sheathing his sword and reaching the two. They were a man and a woman, terrified, and were still down on the ground.

"Don't worry, we're on your side." The male Dragonborn said,, and helped them to their feet. They muttered something in response, too shocked to talk.

"What are your names?" She asked in a reassuring tone.

The woman was still shaking, but tried to say something. "I-I'm Corporal-"

"Names, not ranks." She interrupted, smiling and laying a hand on her shoulder. The soldier flinched, but calmed down.

She sighed, recomposing herself. "I'm Matilda, and he's William. We're both NCR troopers." The woman replied.

"Well, nice to meet you." She said, bowing. "I'm Screaming-Eagle, and he's Keram-Rei."

"Well, hi there." The man muttered, faintly waving at them.

"What does 'NCR' stand for?" He asked, raising his spiked brow.

"No wonder you've never heard it." The man replied, chuckling and looking at him. "It's the New California Republic, we're trying to restore some sort of government into the wasteland, driving the marauders away and organizing security forces." He sighed. "We've done pretty good in California, but things in the Mojave aren't going that well. Bureaucracy, not enough soldiers, Caesar's Legion, Fiends... You name it."

"Me and my friend used to be part of a Legion, but it can't be the same." Screaming-Eagle said, smiling. "What did this one do to earn the NCR's hostility?"

The woman gave them a grim look. "They practice slavery, always look for new lands to occupy, only use women for breeding, slaughter whole cities, and spread fear with their spies and tactics. They crucify their enemies, sometimes they put their head on a pike around their fort. Their leader is crazy, and his second in charge, Legate Lanius, is a bloodthirsty maniac."

Keram-Rei looked at them narrowing his eyes, shocked by the brutality of that Legion. _I'll see about this Legate myself. _He thought, dishonored by sharing the same rank with the bastard. The female Dragonborn, however, was outright upset. "By the Gods..." She muttered. "We would've never joined such a horrible group, our intents were noble and our battles fair."

"We will escort you to your base, I believe there might be more Fiends around here." He said, changing the topic and looking around. "Where were you stationed?"

Matilda pointed somewhere behind him, and he turned. "Camp McCarran, the old airport over there, with the sign and all."

The building was some twenty metres from them and, as soon as Panther arrived, they swiftly reached for it. William opened the gate, gesturing for them to come in.

"We've gotta tell the brass about you!" He said, enthusiastic.

As they entered the airport, he noticed how many tents served as barracks on the inside. There was a bearded soldier waiting next to the entry checkpoint, wearing a beret and a military uniform. The man looked like a veteran of sorts. He gave a quick look at the troopers and Panther, then his eyes switched to the Argonians. He lifted his rifle, aiming down his sights.

"What are you two?" He shouted, his finger on the trigger.


	3. Three Hammers

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
>I do NOT own Fallout: New Vegas nor The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, which belong to Bethesda Softworks, nor the songs I may quote during this story, which belong to... Quite a lot of etiquettes, actually. If I did, I doubt I'd ever think about writing something like this.<br>Anyway, third chapter's here. The more I write this, the more I like the story and how it's turning out. Writing it is lots of fun, really, and I keep coming up with ideas on how to put together many secondary and story quests, although it doesn't happen in this particular chapter. This is my take on "Three-Card Bounty", and I bet some of you, if not all, recognized the bearded NCR guy at the end of chapter 2. Besides, I also try writing a particular scene, which required the help of a friend of mine to be written, or else I wouldn't have come up with anything normal. It is a little different than how this person might've imagined it to end, but hey, that's the best I could do. FYI, this is where the second reason this story is "Mature" comes in. Review it, so that I may become a better writer or adjust some parts of the story which aren't brilliant. "I'm sure we'll be doing this again soon enough!"  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>Strike down the unbelievers,<em>  
><em> March on, for justice we now stand!<em>  
><em> Once more the path for glory,<em>  
><em> Take back the power in our hands!<em>

**DragonForce - Three Hammers**

* * *

><p>Keram-Rei and Screaming-Eagle slowly raised their hands in an attempt to keep the situation from degenerating. <em>Their guns are no match for us… <em>He thought, looking at the weapon the man was holding: an old assault rifle, with wooden grip and butt. Fairly better than Fiend equipment, but still nothing for his armor. _No, we can't let this go to hell, I was even starting to like the NCR. Not to mention the fact he could alert the whole base_

"We know our appearence is shocking to you, but we pose you no threat, believe me." The mage said, nervously waving her tail.

"A sword falls under the 'threat' category, for me." The man retorted, still gripping his weapon tight.

The battlemage sighed. "Look, if we wanted you dead, you would already be. That thing is useless against us, aiming it towards us is even moreso." He explained, as his arms began to tire. "Besides, we have saved two of your soldiers from the Fiends, isn't that enough to you?"

The soldier snorted, slightly cocking his head to where the troopers were. "Is he telling the truth? Did they really save you from those savages?"

"Absolutely, Major!" Matilda exclaimed, saluting and nodding energically.

"Yeah, we'd be dead, weren't it for them, sir!" William added, nodding again and saluting, too.

The Major gave the two Argonians a doubtful look, then slowly lowered his rifle, strapping it to his back, much to everyone's relief.

"You can't believe how glad we are this thing has come to a peaceful end, sir." Screaming-Eagle said, sighing in relief and stopping her tail.

"I feel the same way, trust me." He replied, adjusting his beret. "I'm Major Dhatri, who and what are you two?

"I am Screaming-Eagle, and he's Keram-Rei." She said, bowing out of respect. "We are Argonians, not natives of this world, as you might have noticed. Through a series of most unfortunate events, we've found ourselves here in the Mojave wasteland.

"Hm, I see." He muttered, scratching his beard, then sent away the two troopers. "You said you've saved my men, right?"

"Yes we have, Major Dhatri." Keram-Rei answered, raising his brow. "Do you need our help with some task?"

Dhatri looked at them, hesitant, then sighed. "I've got three Fiends I want dead, and I don't give a goddamn how it gets done." He finally said, a hint of anger in his voice. "That sound like something that interests you?"

"Yes it does!" Panther exclaimed, earning a glare from him. "Oh, right, sorry, I'm with them. Name's Panther."

He shook his head, turning towards the two."Good. That's damn good." The Major shrugged, grinning. "I figure it's about time we got lucky out here, so maybe you can snuff out one of these maniacs. First one's named Violet. God knows why, the name is the prettiest thing about her. Spends most of her time with a pack of vicious dogs. Then there's Driver Nephi." Dhatri snorted in anger. "He's fast and he's brutal. Killed about a dozen of my men with a goddamn driver iron, hence his name. And finally…" He narrowed his eyes. "Cook-Cook. Rapist. Pyromaniac. And a damn good chef, if you believe the Fiends we've captured. Probably the craziest of the lot." He sighed, briefly closing his eyes "I'm not gonna feed you bullshit: these aren't your common Vegas trash. They've all killed good NCR men, and plenty of mercs, too. You go after them, any of them, you're in for a hell of a fight. So… Which one is it going to be?"

The battlemage grinned, amused. "All of them." He said, visibly impressing the Major. "We are three people, three good fighters, hence we can easily handle one each. They don't stand a chance, your problem is already solved."

"If you say so... Alright, I'll mark their locations on your map." The Major said, and the three extended their left arm towards him. He toyed a little with each of the Pip-Boys, then managed to finally adjust the data and let them go. "One more thing." The bearded man said, serious. "If you want the full reward, you need to bring me a recognizable head. My superiors need proof they're gone. That means no headshots, no…"

"Come on, we aren't idiots!" Panther interrupted, earning another glare from him. She coughed, embarassed. "Sir."

He sighed, looking at the three. "Good luck to you, and don't get careless."

"Oh, speaking of care..." Screaming-Eagle began, taking a step forward. "We would like you to tell the base who we are, since another incident would be extremely unpleasant, don't you think? We have to return here to collect the bounty, and being shot isn't among our top priorities."

"It's not about us, it's about your soldiers, really." Keram-Rei added, faintly smiling. "I am easily angered, you see."

The old officer doubtfully looked at him, then nodded. "Right."

"We'll bring you those heads back before the dawn breaks, Major." He said, bowing and gesturing for the two to follow him. They reached the gate, opened it, and exited into the ruins of Las Vegas, stepping on the cracked asphalt.

"Wait, who will go after who?" The Courier asked, frowning. "We haven't thought about that."

He scratched his chin. "Well, maybe I should go and find..."

"Leave Cook-Cook to me." The mage said, deadpan. He frowned: he'd never seen anyone talk like that.

"What? No, no way, you're not hunting a psychopathic, rapist and pyromaniac Fiend!" He replied, looking at her with concern. "If anyone is going to risk it, that will be me, not you!"

"I said I'm killing Cook-Cook." She replied, turning towards him and staring right into his eyes. "I want to give him what he deserves, and you aren't going to stop me."

"You don't know what he could do to you!" He retorted, worried. "For all we know, this guy is completely crazy, and won't care about you being an Argonian or not! No, as I already said, I will hunt him down, I don't want you to take risks."

"To touch me, he would have to get me first, and he won't." She hissed, taking a few steps towards him. He stood still. "I will take good care of him, and you will not get in my way!"

He snorted in anger. "I am trying to protect you from whatever he might do to you!"

"Well, I can take care of myself, I don't need you to babysit me!" She shouted, pushing him, and glared at him. "I am going after Cook-Cook, that's the end of it."

"I think I'll go with Violet, eh?" Panther interrupted, getting between them and forcing them to stop. They recomposed, focusing on their new objectives.

"That leaves Driver Nephi to me..." He muttered, defeated. He had a fairly easy opponent to face, maybe the other Fiends around could've probably made it harder, same with the Courier. It was Cook-Cook he dreaded, and what he could've done to Eagle. "Just... If anyone needs help, shout into the Pip-Boy on this sequence, so that the others can run and help, alright?" He asked, hopefully looking at the two.

Both the mage and the Courier nodded, and the three parted ways, walking off into the wastes.

* * *

><p>Reaching the place had been easy and effortless, since the whole way was completely devoid of any sorts of enemies. Keram-Rei looked at his Pip-Boy, ready for any communication from the others, especially from Eagle. He slowly approached the ruins Driver Nephi dwelled, hearing the soft steps of the Fiends inside,and stopped near a small pile of rubble, unsheathing his sword and giving another look at his arm device. He toyed a little with its buttons, finally getting to what he was looking for. <em>I couldn't do this, back in Skyrim.<em> He thought, grinning. _Let's see how this goes._

_"RISE OF NATION'S PRIDE!"_

As the music erupted from the loudspeakers, he pounced out of cover like a hungry wolf, throwing an ice shiv right into the first Fiend's eye and slamming his sword into the chest, blood spurting over his blade, armor and scales. The battlemage raised his eyes, and saw his enemies were a dozen ragged marauders, shocked at first, but soon battle-ready and furious, their leader standing on a higher level of the ruins. He grinned, looking at his foes as the song went on, the words of ancient wars and battles galvanizing him.

"SU GRAH DUN!" The male Dragonborn shouted, soon feeling the strength and speed of raging winds in his arms. He leapt onto one of the Fiends, slamming his gauntlet into her face and using her as a human shield, casting lightning against his hapless enemies, which riddled with bullet holes their mate, in the desperate hope to hit him. He reached cover and threw the body to the ground, sheathing his sword and joining his hands to cast a mighty fireball. When it was ready to be cast, he dashed out of cover and cast it on the group of bandits. The flames engulfed them in an instant, incinerating the ones near the center, and burning the remaining ones alive within a minute, as their agonizing screams filled the air.

While he contemplated the destruction he'd caused, grinning, Driver Nephi jumped down from his high shelter, determination in his dirty face. He grabbed his driver iron, and so did Keram-Rei with his sword, circling around the demolished room. As they looked into each other's eyes, the Fiend leader attacked, rushing at him and swinging his golf club. He lazily blocked the attack with his Dragonbone blade, which resulted in the destruction of his enemy's 'weapon'. Nephi looked at him, shocked, and he shrugged, just before beheading him. He took the head by the few hair the bandit had, then proceded to rip the fur off his body and neatly wrap it around the proof Major Dhatri wanted. _Looks good to me. _He thought, looking at the package. Blood dripped underneath it, but he couldn't do anything about it, and he decided to place it on his belt, refusing to sully his enchanted satchel with the bastard's head.

His Pip-Boy's screen became blue as soon as the song ended, and he took it near his face. "Hello? Keram, are you there?" An uncertain voice crackled over his communicator. He recognized her.

"Eagle? Is everything alright?" He asked, suddenly worried and remembering who she was up against. "Do you need any help?"

"No, I'm fine, it's just..." She paused, sighing. "Cook-Cook is nowhere to be found. It's the right spot, I'm sure, since there are lit barrels for the night, some sort of steaks around here, cabinets, shelves, even some two-headed cows. I have no idea what to do, Keram."

He scratched his chin. _I don't like the looks of it._ "Alright Eagle, I'm coming to check in."

"Thanks, you can't imagine how creepy this place is, since..." She stopped, and he soon heard men laughing in the background. "Shit, it was a trap! FEI-" He heard the sounds of some sort of fight, and muffled wails.

A man laughed. "Look what we've got here! The lizard bitch you've been talking about, Bite-Dust!" He exclaimed. Keram-Rei felt his blood boil in his veins

"Yes, Cook-Cook!" Somebody else angrily shouted back, as the others laughed.

"Well, well, now…" Cook-Cook said to her, in a tone which only angered him further. "Somebody's gotta pay for what happened outta McCarran, right? And it looks like we've got the responsible."

The battlemage couldn't keep his rage any longer.

"I'M COMING FOR YOU, COOK-COOK!" The male Dragonborn shouted, wrath in his voice. "YOU HEAR ME, BASTARD? LAY ONE OF YOUR FILTHY HANDS ON HER, AND YOU ARE GOING TO WISH YOU HAD NEVER BEEN BORN!" He took a deep breath. "HANG ON, EAGLE, I'M COMING!"

The male Dragonborn summoned Arvak, mounting it in an instant and slamming his heels into his skeletal steed's sides. It reared, neighed, and began running right towards the Fiend's hideout. There was only one thought echoing through his mind.  
><em><br>Kill._

The very moment he'd heard those men laughing, all his fatigue, all his tiredness was gone, replaced by fury. The cold desert night meant nothing to him as he rode, fast as the wind, under the dark sky. _I get in, slay everyone, and spill every last drop of Cook-Cook's blood._ He thought, mentally growling and gritting his teeth. The ride had been fast, very fast, but time didn't matter to him, only blood. He dismounted Arvak, unsheathing his sword and gripping it with rage.

"MUL QAH DIIV!" He shouted, getting closer and closer to the entrance, his stomps shattering the asphalt under his feet, aided by the strength of a Dragon in him. "I DARE YOU, COME OUT, YOU COWARD!" He cried, beating his free hand on his chest. "NOW IT'S ME OR YOU!"

Five Fiends ran outside, aiming his weapons at him and shooting. The bullets merely bounced off his armor, as he charged a fireball and turned them to ashes.

"STRUN BAH QO!" Keram-Rei screamed to the skies, and black clouds shrouded the heavens above, lightnings striking all around him, the storm raging and growing stronger with every second that passed. He entered the building, his bloodshot eyes gazing upon the arena to find the bandit leader. Soon, he found him, standing on a ledge in his scrap iron armor, wielding what looked like a flamethrower. It didn't matter to him: the bastard was going to die anyway.

"Look at who's come to play!" Cook-Cook shouted, jumping off and arming his incinerator, a volley of fireballs heading for the battlemage. He dodged just in time, sprinting and avoiding a set of shots after the other, until the Fiend finally emptied the weapon. He ran towards him, punching his helmet and denting it.

"Where is she, you crazy bastard?" He hissed, his eyes piercing the iron helmet. The answer was a punch on his teeth. He fell on his back, rolling to his side and barely avoiding a machete to his chest, which instead hit his unarmored tail. He let out a cry of pain, looking at his cut tail, and grabbed the weapon by the blade with his bare left hand, completely ignoring the pain throwing it away from the Fiend leader. He punched him in the gut, his gauntlet breaking through the iron like wood, and blood began spurting from the wound.

Cook-Cook whimpered, kicking his mouth and backing up to grab his machete. The battlemage coughed up blood and broken teeth, then followed his enemy, who had taken back his weapon and swinged it towards the male Dragonborn's head. He stopped it with his left wrist, staring into the marauder's eyes as the blade sank deeper and deeper into his arm, eventually taking his hand off. He stood still for a couple of seconds, which gave time to Keram to grab the machete and jam it into the man's chest. Cook-Cook flinched, but still didn't fall, and grabbed him by his horns. He did his best trying to wriggle away, but soon felt them cracking, and he fell down, the bandit holding them in his hands and cocking his head, kicking his gut twice.

The battlemage avoided the third kick and jumped on his feet, slamming his right fist into the Fiend's face and throwing him into the ground. He did it again, and again, and again, and again, feeling his fingers break, one by one, until the helmet had sunk deep into Cook-Cook's skull, ending the fight. He got up and, as the rage finally ended, he felt all the pain he had ignored during the fight, barely staying on his feet and uncapable of healing, one hand gone and the other shattered.

"Las Yah Niir..." He muttered, coughing up even more blood. The auras of the cows gleamed a pale red at his left, while he saw a crimson one in front of him, just up a set of stairs. He dragged himself upside, every step bringing new pain all over his body. He did his best not to fall unconscious, and reached the cabinet in which Eagle was held. Fighting back the pain, he opened it with his right hand, holding the mage as soon as she fell. He laid her onto the ground, then grabbed his sword to cut the ropes on her hands, eventually giving up and falling on his knees, dropping the blade at her side. She swiftly cut the ropes on her feet and ripped her gag off, looking at him with tears in her eyes.

"By the Gods, Keram!" She shrieked, terrified, and kneeled next to him. "What happened? I heard you shouting, then fighting, but I didn't..."

"I've killed the bastard, he..." The battlemage coughed up more blood, then smiled with the few teeth left. "He can't hurt you anymore."

"Why didn't you heal yourself?" She asked, raising her hands to cast her Restoration spells on him. He raised his arms, grinning, and she looked with horror. "Oh, Gods... You've lost so much blood... I don't know how the fight went, but this is going to take its time, just stay awake, alright?" She said, worried, and he briefly closed his eyes. He felt tired, way too tired, perhaps he just needed to...

Screaming-Eagle slapped him, and he lazily reopened them. "I said stay awake, don't fall asleep!" She screamed, and joined her hands on his chest. Keram-Rei soon felt an ailing warmth flowing through him, taking away all his fatigue and wiping the blood and filth from him. He could feel his bones welding back together, his guts and muscles closing the holes torn through them, his horns grew back, his left hand did, too, and his tail like them. In what seemed like minutes, all the pain had vanished from him, and he looked upon her: she was tired, from all the Magicka she had consumed, but was smiling.

"Thanks." He said, smiling back and looking into her ruby red eyes.

She shook her head, tears falling from her eyes. "I should be thanking you, you can't imagine what Cook-Cook said he would've done to me. It was horrible..."

He wrapped his arms around her, taking her closer to him. "Don't worry, everything's going to be alright." He whispered, running a hand through her sliky, brown feathers. "He's dead, he won't hurt you anymore, you're safe now. I'm here."

She calmed down a little, resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Keram." She murmured. He held her tighter.

"How come you smell like roses after all we've come through?" He asked, smiling. She giggled, and backed a little to look into his eyes.

"Magic." She replied, smiling back. He looked at her scales dark red scales, then at her horns, at her eyes gleaming red like rubies, at her lips, as they gracefully moved to spell the word 'Magic'.

He hesitantly moved his head in, and closed his eyes, kissing her. She froze for an instant, then pressed her lips against his, and he completely forgot all the pain the fight had brought him, all the rage he'd felt flowing through his veins, all the hatred and bloodlust, just to focus on her. Nothing mattered to him, save for the moment he was living with her, and how wonderful he'd found it to be.

Soon, however, his mind took over his heart, and he reluctantly broke the kiss, cursing himself in English, Jel and in the Dragon Tongue. "Sorry, it was just plain stupid, I wasn't... I wasn't really thinking, I didn't want to do it, I just..."

She pressed her finger against his lips. "Are you really sure about it?" She whispered, staring into his eyes with an disarming hope.

"No, I am not." He replied, faintly smiling. "I wanted it, heart and soul, I'd be lying."

She grinned. "Then why did you stop, you stupid spellsword?" Eagle murmured, kissing Keram with more passion than before. He ran a hand on her back, as she ripped off parts of his armor, first the pieces on his arms and the Pip-Boy, then his pauldrons. He took off her Pip-Boy, then he lifted the superior part of her robe, exposing her breasts. They both grinned, and she pulled him to the ground, getting on top of him. He laid his hands on her hips, slowly taking her pants down, as she threw away the head of Nephi and began unbelting him. He could've sworn he'd heard footsteps, but then looked at her chest, and decided not to worry about it. She took off his chestplate, then his lower armor, as he worked on her damned belt.

"Guys? Where are you?" A dangerously close, and dreadfully familiar voice called. They froze on the spot. "I heard Eagle, so I ran here as fast as I could."

Panther emerged from the stairs. "You know, the road here has been a complete..." The Courier looked at them, wide-eyed, and dropped her gun. "Hell."


	4. Revelations

**A.N.:  
><strong>**I do NOT own Fallout: New Vegas nor The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, which belong to Bethesda Softworks, nor the songs I may quote during this story, which belong to... Quite a lot of etiquettes, actually. If I did, I doubt I'd ever think about writing something like this.**  
><strong>Fourth chapter, and I am really, really sorry for the delay on this one. The last week of school has been devastating, but now I'm free for more than two weeks, in which I'll probably keep reading Percy Jackson and I'll definately upload a couple of chapters to this story. So, here we are, right where we left: Panther interrupts the two Dragonborn as they... Well, you know it. We're going to have love, Panther liking Sabaton, Lieutenant Gorobets and a scene so weird I had to read twice, just to make sure it was I who'd written it. I've probably slapped any form of literature with this thing, but it sounded kinda cool in my head. It will probably turn out it isn't. Well, it's up to you to decide. Write a review, if you think this is pure genius or pure heresy. If you don't think neither of those... well, write one anyway, and let me know what you think. "NOW GO PUNCH SOME BAD GUY IN THE D*CK!"<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Revelations will now be unveiled!<em>

**DragonForce - Revelations**

* * *

><p>"Oh. My. God." Panther muttered, speechless.<p>

Keram-Rei buried his face in his hands, groaning in a mixture of embarassment, annoyance and anger. He felt Screaming-Eagle getting up, hesitant. He opened his eyes, just to see her walking towards the Courier in a quite... _sensual _fashion. He frowned. _She's naked from her waist up, what is she thinking?_

"I-I can't even…" The girl muttered, clearly shocked, as the mage kept walking towards her, provocative. "You w-were just… And y-you..." She was shocked, but he saw her eyes slowly laying on the Argonian's bare chest.

"Shh, don't say a word." Eagle whispered, delicately lifting the Courier's chin with her hand, grinning. "You know, there is something I wanted to tell you, badly..." She continued, barely audible, but he could feel something was off in her voice. _Wait, she's using a malia spell! _The battlemage thought, perplexed. _Why in Oblivion would she..._ His eyes widened, a grin across his face. _Oh._

Meanwhile, the mage slowly leaned closer towards Panther, her lips a few breaths from the girl's ones. The Courier closed her eyes, smiling in ecstasy.

"FUCK OFF!"

It took him a few moments to realize things weren't going as he'd pictured them. There stood Screaming-Eagle, both her fists clenched in anger, while Panther was on the ground. She wasn't dead, as he noticed in a couple of seconds, but she was unconscious.

"You've... knocked her out with another one of those spells?" He asked, raising his brow, a little disappointed.

"No, I punched her." She replied, snorting, then dragged the girl on one of the mattresses around the place. The rain from his thunderstorm kept pouring down, and lightnings still struck down all around the ruins, albeit less frequently than during the fight.

After a little, the mage came around a corner, gave him a look, then she smiled. Eagle slowly walked towards the battlemage, laying her hands on her hips and slowly taking her pants off. She kicked her boots away and then, completely naked, she kneeled over his lap. In the meantime, he'd taken off his lower armor, even ripping off a couple of plates in the haste.

"Where were we again?" She asked, a provocative smile on her face.

He pressed his hands on her shoulders, then he pulled her towards him, kissing her.

* * *

><p>Keram-Rei grinned, that was everything he could do, at the moment. What happened between him and Screaming-Eagle... Not a thousand battles could give him that rush, that satisfaction. None of his fights could match laying with the woman he loved. They both laid on one of the mattresses, their tails entwined. She was at his side, a hand over his chest. He had an arm wrapping her shoulders.<p>

"Was... was I good?" She asked, hesitant, as she caressed his chest.

He chuckled. "I've never laid with a woman before, but..." He scratched his chin, then looked into her ruby red eyes. "Fucking amazing."

The mage would've blushed, weren't it for the scales, then she raised her brow, curious. "Wait, you mean…"

"Yes, long story short, I was a virgin." He completed, sighing. "You shouldn't be surprised, our story was almost identical, remember?"

"What are you talking about?" She asked, narrowing her eyes.

The battlemage chuckled. "You whimpered, when I..."

She giggled, interrupting him. "Alright, fine, you got me." She said, smiling. "In the end, I'd say it was awesome for both."

He smiled, then he kissed her. "You bet."

She got to her feet, taking her robes. "We should get dressed, you never know when Panther might wake up." He sighed, looking at the night sky above. It was finally clear, and darker. _It's almost dawn. _He thought, just before getting up and gathering his armor pieces and undergarments. It took him a while to find all the plates but, eventually, he finally took the last one and began dressing up. _Perhaps I shouldn't have ripped off my armor and thrown it away..._

"I have absolutely no idea what to tell the girl." She murmured, already wearing her undergarments, as she belted her pants. "What do you suggest?"

"I'd suggest a less sensual approach, next time." He said, grinning, as he wore his leather vest and strapped on his chestplate. "And I think you should try explaining her what happened, tell her why we didn't want her around."

"There is a slight chance she might not remember her last minutes, though..." Eagle replied, taking on her upper robes and raising her cowl, her horns sticking out from two holes she'd made. He'd done the same with his helmet.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm sure she'll understand we needed some time for ourselves." The battlemage reassured her as he belted his arm protections, then his lower armor. "Explaining why you tried seducing her and why you've knocked her out will be much harder, I'm sure." He added, giggling, when he was finally done with his armor, and had put Nephi's head on his hip, along with his satchel.

She muttered something under her breath, probably cursing him, but couldn't help but smile. Then, her look turned into a worried one. He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Keram, if we have laid together..." She said, her voice a little more than a whisper. "This means I... I..."

"Oh, I had completely forgotten that, thanks for reminding me." He exclaimed, laying a hand on her womb. A faint blue glow glimmered between his fingers, then he raised his hand. "There, done."

She frowned, scowling at him. "How in Oblivion do you know such a spell?"

Keram-Rei grinned, shaking his head. "Please, I'm an arrogant and powerful hero in his twenties! If I were you, I'd be worried about the opposite."

"That's... alright, I guess." She replied, giving him a quizzical look, then she focused on the Courier. "We should wake her up."

"I thought you didn't know how to wake up people?" He muttered, chuckling.

"I don't know how to wake up fainted people. Right now, she's just sleeping, you see?" She replied, rolling her eyes. "We could just poke her shoulder, and she should be on her feet."

"I guess it should be you. You did so, last time." He replied, shrugging. "Besides, you have a lot to explain."

He leaned against a wall, crossing his arms, as she crouched next to the girl. She was now snoring softly, sometimes flinching in her sleep. _Must be her jaw._ He thought, sighing. The mage tapped on Panther's shoulder.

"I don't wanna wake up…" Panther groaned, turning towards the other side. The female Dragonborn shook her again, determined. "Five more minutes, come on…"

"Panther, wake up." She muttered, annoyed. He was beginning to smile in amusement.

"Come on…" The girl replied, still asleep.

"WAKE THE FUCK UP!" Eagle shouted, and the girl sat on the mattress at once. He bursted out laughing.

The Courier gave her a quizzical look, then she slapped the mage. "Don't play that trick on me anymore!" She shouted, shocked. He doubled over, laughing even harder than before. "But you've got nice tits, I'll give you that."

Keram-Rei just kept laughing, which earned him a kick in the guts from Screaming-Eagle. He slowly came to a halt. "Sorry, it's just..."

"Shut up." She hissed, narrowing her eyes on him. "And don't you dare laughing again."

She slowly walked towards the girl, sagging her shoulders. "I know this is hard, and embarassing, and you must have a lot of questions, but..."

"You two were about to fuck in front of me!" Panther shouted, shaken. "You wanted me to join, too, and then you punched me! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Do you have any idea how annoying it was?" She replied, angry. "Here we are, about to consume our passion, and what do you do? You run upstairs!"

"Like I knew you two were having sex!" The girl retorted, looking offended. "You could've said something like 'Oh, you know Panther, I'm safe, so I'm just gonna fuck him. 'K bye.'"

"It didn't go like that!" The mage replied, furious. "How are you supposed to know what I feel towards him? Tell me, come on!

"I don't know, you wanted to thank him for saving you?" She said, shrugging.

Eagle readied a lightning spell, ready to pulverize her. "I am not a whore."

The other chuckled, mockingly. "You just wanted to reward him. You are."

She began hissing, sheer power gathering in her hands. "What did you just say to me?"

She laughed nervously, gripping her pistol. "I said-"

"Enough, both of you!" He roared, standing between them and looking at both. "What were you two hoping to accomplish, apart from killing each other? You should be wiser than this." He said, looking at Eagle. "And you should stop behaving like an idiot, you'll get yourself killed, someday. Or worse." He narrowed his eyes on Panther. Both looked like little girls. _Deadly, angry little girls._ "Let's never speak of this again."

"Agreed." The battlemage and the Courier replied, nodding. Nobody spoke for minutes, up until dawnbreak.

"So, how was Violet?" He asked, trying to break the oppressing silence.

"A total bitch." Panther replied, shaking her head. "She had something like a dozen dogs running after me, all barking and howling."

"You must've found yourself accustomed, then." The mage muttered, smirking.

She ignored her. "Then, the bitch came outside and started shooting with this weird scoped SMG. Too bad my first bullet broke it, it was nice." She sighed. "Then, the second one hit her heart. Appearently, an armor with exposed cleavage isn't the best." She continued, shrugging. "Driver Nephi?"

"Oh, I believe he might've put up a nice fight, except for the fact he'd run into me." He grinned, still thinking about the battle. "I used one of his Fiends as a human shield, ran behind a pillar, and annihilated the rest with a fireball. Then, he jumped down, charging at me." He chuckled. "I sliced his golf club and stunned him, right before beheading the poor bastard." He tapped his fingers on the sack of brown leather dangling from his hip.

"Well, that pretty much sums it up." She replied. "I won't ask about Cook-Cook. It shouldn't have been that bad, though."

"You don't want to know." Eagle said, her voice trembling, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "I was almost... You'd better ask him. I wish not to speak about this."

"A crazy son of a bitch, if you ask me." He answered, snorting in anger. "Heavy armor, flamethrower, relentless... He tried fighting back until his last breath. One of my most dangerous foes, I've nearly died at his hands." He snorted again. "I lost my tail, horns, and my left hand. The right one was basically shattered. The only difference with my other enemies is I don't hold respect towards him."

The girl tilted her head. "You look fine to me."

"Yes, well, Eagle's healed me, of course." He replied, scratching his neck. "Although, I'm afraid we won't collect a great bounty from him..."

"What do you mean?" She asked, narrowing her eyes.

He sighed. "I crushed his skull, and I'm pretty sure his mask is now fused with his face._"_

Panther rolled her eyes. "Alright, fine, we're gonna get paid anyway, and we've already got two heads. Where's Cook-Cook?"

"Downstairs." The battlemage replied, pointing at the set of stairs.

The Courier got down, carefully avoiding his drops of blood on the steps, then disappeared from their sight and, in less than a minute, she was also out of earshot.

"Well, look at the bright side: she likes your breasts, too." He muttered, chuckling and walking closer to her.

"Oh, fuck you." The mage replied, crossing her arms.

"You've already thought about it." He said, grinning, and pressed his lips against hers. Time didn't matter to him, when he was with her.

"Are you two seriously going to keep doing this every time I'm away?" Panther exclaimed, Cook-Cook's head in her hand. He hadn't heard her footsteps. They both broke the kiss, looking away, and followed her outside.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to play some music." The Courier said, turning towards them.

"Well, what kind of music?" Eagle asked.

"Radio New Vegas." She replied, proudly smiling.

They both groaned, exhasperated. "Akatosh preserve us, not that radio!" He said, looking at her in despair.

"It's good music." Panther replied, as if he'd offended her family.

"It's good music up until you've heard the same ten songs eight times in a row!" He replied, grimacing, and brought up his Pip-Boy. "Here, listen to this, instead. I'm sure you're going to like it.

The sound of marching steps and creaking machinery broke through the loudspeakers.

She frowned. "What the…"  
><em><br>"INTO THE MOTHERLAND THE GERMAN ARMY MARCH!"_

* * *

><p>"Rise, nation's pride..." Panther hummed as she reached for McCarran's entrance. Keram-Rei shook his head. <em>I wonder how long she'll keep singing.<em> He thought, smiling. The good thing was she'd liked the music. The bad one was she was obsessed with it. A couple of sentinels looked at them as they entered the base, murmuring and pointing at them in awe. He couldn't help but feel great. Once inside, they noticed there wasn't much activity. _It's still dawn, after all._

"Alright, you give Dhatri the heads, we are just going to search the base for a tent." Eagle ordered Panther, and she reluctantly nodded. "I seriously need some rest…" She toldhim, yawning. The battlemage nodded

"We've been awake for more than a day." He replied, as a passing platoon gazed upon them, right before their commanding officer called. "So, how are we..."

"Hey, you there, excuse me!" She exclaimed, gaining the attention of a man with a red beret. _1__st__ Recon, eh? _He thought, grinning.

The man raised his brow, surprised, as they walked towards him. "You must be the lizard folks Major Dhatri's been talking about." He said, crossing his arms. "We all thought he'd gone crazy."

"My pleasure to meet you, sir." The battlemage said, smiling. "I'm Keram-Rei, and she's Screaming-Eagle. We were wondering if you knew where to find a free tent to sleep."

"I'm Lieutenant Gorobets, First Recon." He replied, nodding in acknowledgement. "I heard you've been hunting down Fiends tonight."

"Correct." She replied. "Could you tell me more about the 1st Recon?"

Keram-Rei almost groaned in frustration. _I want to sleep..._

"We're the finest sniper outfit in the whole NCR." The Lieutenant said, proud. "If you need a bullet put in a target's eye from eight hundred miles away, you call us." He sighed. "Some of my team aren't without their share of scars, though, like Betsy and Sterling."

She frowned. "What's the matter with Betsy?"

He wanted to sleep, he was tired, he couldn't care less about Betsy. But he stood there, just for Eagle's sake.

"Cook-Cook, one of the Fiends, ambushed her and Ten of Spades." Gorobets said, grimacing. "They both managed to escape, but not before Cook-Cook raped her." The battlemage noticed Eagle's eyes widening, as she listened more carefully. _Well, looks like she might be interested._ "Betsy's shrugged it off like it was nothing, but her behavior keeps getting worse… Always making passes at every woman who wanders by." He sighed. "It's inappropriate for anyone in First Recon to behave that way. I could discipline her, but I'd rather she get medical help."

"I will talk to Betsy about getting medical help." She immediately replied, concerned. "I almost shared her fate, tonight."

"Sorry to hear this." Lieutenant Gorobets muttered. "I'd appreciate it. As her CO, I could order her to get help, but I'd have her agree with the idea."

"Where's a free tent, anyway?" Keram-Rei asked, tired.

"Oh, right. Last one to the left, next to the medical one." Gorobets replied.

"Thanks, Lieutenant." He replied, bowing and following her outside. "I'll go and have some sleep, come by whenever you're done with Betsy."

"I will, don't worry." She said, kissing his snout and walking away. He yawned, dragging himself towards the last tent among the curious looks of a couple of soldiers. When he finally reached the tent, he looked sideways at the dirty mattress, but then dropped on it and fell asleep.

* * *

><p>"Oh, hey there, Keram-Rei." Someone said behind him. He opened his eyes: he was in a room, filled with furnishings, shelves, posters on the walls, a bed, a TV, books, what looked like a computer, and much more. It was a pretty small room, all in all. The battlemage turned, and saw the source of the voice. It was a boy, human, with brown hair, brown eyes, bushy eyebrows, a shade of beard. He looked young, and fat. He wore a gray sweater, black pants, and blue slippers. He had a smile on his face, and held some candies in his hand. "Want a candy? Natural herbs, pretty sweet."<p>

The Argonian's jaw dropped. _How in Oblivion does he know my name?_

"Because I'm writing a story about you, that's why." He replied, smiling. "I'm writing this very scene, actually."

Keram-Rei was speechless, and looked at the boy wide-eyed. "How... how..."

"It's hard to explain, really, really hard. Just know this: I am involved in your life, in that of your lover, Screaming-Eagle, and in that of everyone you know." The battlemage must've made some really weird face. "Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to kill anyone you love. I'm not like that."

With a small cloud and a sucking sound, Screaming-Eagle popped out of nowhere, right at his left side. "Well, speaking of which..." The boy muttered.

She was surprised, and looked around her. "I've never had a dream like this, it looks like..."

"This is not your dream, Eagle." He managed to say, still shaken. "It is... our dream. We are both dreaming, summoned by him." He pointed at the boy, and the mage gave him a quizzical look.

"Pointing is rude, hasn't anyone ever told you that?" The boy asked, and he lowered his arm. "Thanks."

"Who are you, kid?" She asked, tilting her head. "You are very powerful, if you've managed to manipulate our dreams and fuse them into one. Only Vaermina is known to do that, and you're male. Impressive."

"Thank you, Screaming-Eagle." He replied, much to her surprise. "I'm just the Writer of this story. As I was telling your lover, I'm writing a story about you two, including this dream. Pretty amazing, hm?"

"Are you one of the Gods?" She asked, fascinated.

"What? Oh, God, no!" He replied, chuckling. "I'm an ordinary Italian adolescent. Well, a little fatter than ordinary. But I'm working on that."

"Then, who are you? You can manipulate us, you affect our lives..." She observed him, curious.

"I'd rather not say my name, there's other people reading this. Call me the Writer, though." He replied, scratching his neck.

"Why are we here?" The battlemage asked, annoyed. He didn't like it.

The Writer smiled. "Straight to the point, hm? Well, let's change the scenery. My room is pretty boring place to talk about your destiny."

He snapped his fingers, and they found themselves in a hot jungle, gunshots echoing all around them. There were shouts, screams, fire, machinery, and what sounded like artillery and planes. The boy smiled. "Welcome to Vietnam, 1972. I believe my parents got married on this day, a few thousand kilometres from here. Still, Italy was a pretty boring place, at the time. It still is."

An explosion rumbled in the distance, the pillars of smoke barely visible, thanks to the trees. "What is it you wanted to tell us?" She asked.

"Oh, right, right." The Writer shook his head, as if he'd forgotten it. "I am not going to lie, I am not going to sweeten things up, I am not going to talk through riddles: your life is going to be complete Hell, and I cannot interfere with that. The story of the Mojave isn't mine, and neither is that of Skyrim."

"What do you mean?" The battlemage asked, as jets roared over their heads, dropping bombs not too far from them. Some men screamed.

"Well, I'm just mixing up a couple of stories. I thought you wanted to know that, or why you had been thrown into the Mojave Wasteland in the first place." He replied, honest. The boy even looked a little guilty. "You're not going to go through every task people will throw at you, though, I'll make sure you don't have to complete them. While you're sleeping, I'll make some changes. You'll only face the biggest quests around. I won't let you venture outside of the Mojave, rest assured. You will have a general knowledge of what happened, sure, and everyone will believe you've helped Panther. She'll take care of everything."

"Why isn't she here?" They both asked, unison.

"She isn't the real protagonist, you are." The boy replied, shrugging. "Not of this story, at least. She is, in the original Mojave. As you were in Skyrim."

A bell rang, and the Writer searched his pocket. He took out a small, black device, and pressed a button on its side. He dragged his finger around it, he smiled at the screen, then looked at them. "Time's up, I'm afraid. Here, have a candy." He gave one each. The wrapping was yellow and white, and there was a writing on it, but neither of them could understand the language. "Oh, it says there are thirteen herbs around a crystalized sugar. They don't do anything special, I just like them."

"You said you aren't special, yet you are writing our story." She replied, narrowing her eyes.

"Nice observation. Now, 'Rise and shine, Mr. Freeman. Rise and shine'." He said, smiling.

Before the battlemage could tell the Writer how creepy that was, he snapped his fingers.

* * *

><p>He woke up at Camp McCarran, Eagle at her side, and looked into her eyes, sighing in relief. They both let out a laugh.<p>

"What a weird dream, eh?" He exclaimed, kissing her.

"Weird indeed." She replied, smiling.

Then, he looked at their mattresses. There was a candy on each one. The wrapping was yellow and white.

"Divines preserve us, it was real..." He muttered, shocked.

"This never happened." She said, looking into his eyes.

He slowly nodded. "Agreed."


	5. Into The Fire

**AUTHOR'S NOTE  
>I do NOT own Fallout: New Vegas nor The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, which belong to Bethesda Softworks, nor the songs I may quote during this story, which belong to... Quite a lot of etiquettes, actually. If I did, I doubt I'd ever think about writing something like this.<br>So, this is my take on "There Stands the Grass", the mission in Vault 22. This chapter is a little longer than usual, but I like it more than the others I've written thus far. It's got not really good, since it's my first official fanfiction, but I hope I'll get better, eventually. I've kept reading Percy Jackson in English, and I've moved onto Heroes of Olympus. Maybe I've improved a little bit, after reading seven books and a half, but I wouldn't be so sure about it. I mean, now I know how to better use English expressions and all, of course, but I'm still not very convinced about it. Write a review and let me know what you think, it's the best way to know how I'm doing and what I could do, and remember: "YOUR KIND WORDS ARE APPRECIATED!"  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>Now I'm ready to strike!<br>A creature of the night,  
>Into the fire!<br>The flames of napalm strike!_

**Sabaton - Into The Fire**

* * *

><p>Keram-Rei slowly put the candy in his pocket, got to his feet, still shocked by the dream he and Screaming-Eagle had just shared. He gave her another worried look, and he exited the tent, gesturing for her to follow. At the same time, though, Panther rushed inside, crashing into him and making both the Argonians fall down.<p>

She helped them to their feet. "Sorry, I was about to wake you up, because..."

He shook his head. "Nevermind. What is it?"

"Oh, well, I've found a new job for us!" She announced, enthusiastic.

"What sort of job?" The mage asked, uncertain. "The last one didn't go very well."

"No, don't worry, we just have to find a disk this time. And we've been paid for the Fiends." The Courier reassured her, waving a small bag in front of her. "We've got to go in a Vault north-east of here, Vault 22. The only danger there are overgrown plants."

The battlemage frowned. "Plants? In the post-nuclear Mojave desert?"

"Yes, and there's nobody watering them!" She replied, smiling, and leading the way outside. "Could you believe it?"

He sighed, turning towards Eagle. "It's going to be dangerous, I'm sure." He whispered, and she nodded.

It was late afternoon when they exited the tent. The three of them walked across Camp McCarran, only this time there were less people looking at them. _They must've gotten used to us. _ He thought, shrugging and reaching for the exit. A couple of troopers opened the door for them, a mix of awe and curiosity on their faces. The battlemage smiled, trying to look as confident as he could. One of them elbowed the other in the ribs, then they both waved at them. Keram-Rei chuckled as they passed the gates, heading out into the Mojave again. _Well, I've got a couple of fans now._

This time, before he could bring up his Pip-Boy, the mage had already chosen the soundtrack for their travel. He didn't recognize the music, and that was strange, since he'd already tried listening to the various songs in there. The tune was catchy, it was probably meant to be danced. The song echoed through the ruins of Las Vegas and, surprisingly, it didn't seem to attract anyone or anything. In fact, the only Fiends they'd come upon just ran away, leaving their weapons behind. Panther seemed to notice one, and ran towards it, grabbing it and giggling to herself.

"Nice…" She muttered, grinning as she held the weapon in her hands, examining it, the magazine, the iron sights, and the trigger. "How the Hell did those freaks find an M1 Garand? Doesn't matter, now you're mine, don't worry."

At first, he was pretty sure she was talking to them, now it was clear she was talking to the gun. He took a step back. "Is it in good conditions?"

"It's almost perfect, this baby just needs a little love." She replied, not even looking at him. _Since when did she love weapons this much?_

"Could we, uhm, go on?" Eagle asked, uncertain. "It's almost night, and I don't think hanging around would be a good idea."

"Oh, yes, sure." She strapped the rifle between her and the backpack. "I've read something about this gun in an old war book, along with pictures and its uses in battle, the various battles in which it was used, the armies... Did I mention I love reading war books?"

He sighed, taking the lead and following the road. "I believe you've said your very name comes from a book, correct?"

"Hell yes, Jagdpanther." She said, excited. "Jagdpanzer V, introduced to the German Wehrmacht in 1944. It mounted-"

"Panther, what in Oblivion is wrong with you?" Eagle snapped. "You weren't like this yesterday!"

She waved her off. "Oh, nothing, I just found a stack of… things at Violet's hideout and, while you were sleeping, I thought 'Hey, why don't I-'"

"Great, she's on drugs." Keram said, exhasperated. "Eagle, keep an eye on her, see if you can do anything to remove the effects. If you remember how you managed to help Wujeeta, that's even better. If you don't, mute her."

"Hey, I'm still here!" The girl protested. "I was-"

"You mean the Skooma-addicted Riften dock worker?" She asked, ignoring the Courier. "A healing potion should do the trick, then."

He turned, hearing her rummage through her satchel and, in a couple of seconds, she yelped in victory. "Ah, there you are!" The mage said, taking a small red flask. "Come here, drink this. It tastes like strawberries."

"What's a 'strawberries'?" The girl asked, just before taking the bottle and emptying in an instant. After a few seconds, she shook her head, looking at them. "Wait, what have you done to me? I feel... different."

"We've cleaned you up." He replied, shrugging. "You would've become addicted to whatever you've taken, so you would've wanted more, and more, and more. It would've become worse with time, your eyesight would've started being bleary, your mood highly unpredictable, and you would've probably ended up insane. Or dead, it depends. I don't think that's a pleasant fate."

Her eyes widened in shock. "Really? H-how do you know this?"

"The Fiends use it." The battlemage replied, sighing. "That's enough for me to tell it's bad. Now, have you taken anything else from Violet's place?"

"No, I… No, just that thing." She managed to say.

He started walking again. "Good, this means we won't have any similar accidents. Now, on our way to…" Keram-Rei stopped mid-sentence. In the middle of the desert, hidden between the hills, was a lush green spot. He rubbed his eyes, uncertain if he was really seeing it or not.

"… Vault 22." Screaming-Eagle muttered in amazement, gazing upon the garden.

They walked towards it, but the battlemage still kept a hand on the hilt of his sword. _Something might be hiding in the grass._

"Oh my God, it's beautiful!" Panther exclaimed, running in the small patch of green, enthusiastic. "I've never seen anything like this before!"

Screaming-Eagle looked surprised, too, and he had to admit the place was amazing, but he didn't like it.

"It's not natural." He muttered, sniffing the air. "Something's wrong here."

"I sense the same thing." She replied, readying frost spells. He did the same, cautiously walking through the grass as if he expected an ambush. There was an old sign that once read 'Welcome to Vault 22', but it was now covered by red spray paint, reading 'STAY OUT! THE PLANTS KILL!' This further increased his suspects.

Panther's scream, however, confirmed them.

There were at least half a dozen… _things_ moving towards them, fast, sneaking through the grass. He managed to freeze one of them, a large, green insect with long legs and with the two frontal limbs shaped as blades. _A giant mantis? Seriously?_ He thought, kicking the insect and shattering it. Judging by the gunfire, Panther had joined the fight, too, but he was too focused on finding his foes in the sea of grass to see her clearly.

"Laas Yah Nir!" He whispered, and saw five small red auras in front of him, jumping around and sneaking under the plants. The battlemage threw an ice shiv at one, which instantly faded from his vision. Then, he changed the type of spell, froze the surroundings with blasts of cold and, as the Courier shot another mantis, the other three auras flickered and died. Many plants had withered from the cold, but it looked like a green moss was already covering them.

Keram turned towards Eagle, and found her shaking, her eyes wide open on the rusty Vault door. He rushed at her side, holding her. She began crying.

"I'm useless…" She muttered, her head on his shoulder. "I-I'm afraid of a bunch of insects…"

The battlemage held her tighter. "Don't worry, it's all right." He whispered. "You aren't useless, everyone's afraid of something."

"Y-yes, but I might get us killed..." She murmured.

"Come on, I'm afraid of tight and underground spaces." He admitted.

She backed away, looking into his eyes and managing a faint smile. "Really?"

He sighed. "Yes, and I know we're about to go inside a mantis-ridden, underground, barely lighted Vault. This means we both have to face our fears, my love."

"Oh, you've never called me like that..." She whispered. _If she could blush, she would. _He thought, looking at her smile. "It's so cute."

He chuckled, then he kissed her, running a hand through her feathers. He loved how they felt so smooth, and smelled so good, yet he didn't know how she managed to do that. It must've been some sort of magic, but he couldn't tell what spell. Then again, he didn't really care about his look.

"Would you just move your scaly asses over here?" Panther shouted, and they both groaned in annoyance, breaking the kiss. She was standing in front of the opened Vault door, staring at them.

"Don't kiss while you're in front of me ever again." She said. "It freaks me out."

He raised his brow, surprised. "And why is that?"

"It's... You've got teeth, weird mouths, you look like iguanas…" She shuddered. "It's gross."

"I could say the same thing about humans, you know that, don't you?" He retorted.

"Yeah, except I'm not kissing anyone while you're around." The Courier replied.

Eagle snorted. "Let's get this over with." She said, entering the Vault and shoving the girl aside. She followed the mage, and he gave one last look at the sky.

Keram-Rei jumped inside, finding himself in a rusted room, plants and mushrooms invading the entrance. Surprisingly, there was a running terminal, along with some food, a bag and a makeshift bed.

"Is there anything particular we should know about this place?" He asked, looking around the room. The plants were real, some were even bigger than their natural counterparts, but they felt… wrong, in a way he couldn't tell. The place was starting to get on his nerves.

"The place we're looking for is on the deepest floor." The Courier replied, looking at the terminal and tapping her fingers on the keyboard. "We find the main terminal, make a copy of the files, then we're good to go. Oh, there's also this researcher we should find, Keely. The woman who told me about her said she was 'one of a kind', whatever that means."

He nodded, then kept looking around for anything helpful. Appearently, the plants didn't even need soil to grow, they were growing on the metal itself.

"Alright, got it. Guys, listen up." Panther began. "This terminal has been converted to some sort of diary. It says Keely, the researcher we're looking for, was here, which is good, and also says the plants come from downstairs, which is kinda weird."

"Anything else?" The mage interrupted, collecting a few flowers and mushrooms. He laid a hand on his shoulder, then she sighed and dropped them.

"It also says there have been lots of expeditions, but nobody ever came back." She replied, grimacing. "Hildern didn't mention that. Sneaky bastard."

"Well, they didn't bring along two Dragonborn Argonians." He muttered, chuckling. _I don't know if that is going to make any difference, though…_

"You're right, let's move out." The Courier said, managing a faint smile. They opened the door in front of them, and carefully descended into the Vault, Eagle behind them in case any mantises ever showed up. The place was darker than the entrance, and he bared his teeth, nervous, looking at the corridors. To their left, there were other stairs, while an elevator door stood in front of them. The girl walked towards it, toying a little with the console, then she cursed under her breath.

"Fuck, it's broken." She said aloud.

"Can you repair it?" He asked, clutching his sword tightly. The more he stayed down there, the more he hated the place.

"I'm good, but I'm not _that_ good." She sighed. "We'll have to take the stairs."

Since he was the only one armed for melee combat, he lead them down the three sets of stairs, every step feeling heavier and heavier. He could see the lichens on the walls were thicker, some blocking the lights. They eventually reached the door to the second level of the Vault and opened it. To their left, was the elevator, ahead of them were the stairs, and to their right was the proper floor, labeled 'LAB'.

"Eagle, follow me into the lab, let's see if we can find anything useful." Panther said in a low voice, crouching, probably not to alert any creature down there. "Keram, you stay here, make sure nothing nasty comes through the door."

"Understood." He said, nodding, and held his sword tighter.

Eagle kissed him, then she and the Courier entered the laboratory. The battlemage now stood there, silent, Dragonbone sword in his right hand, magic ice shiv in the left one. He looked at the rusty metal walls, then at the few vines on the floor. It looked like the place had been abandoned for millennia, not centuries, there were thousands of Dwemer ruins in far better shape. Besides, he knew no plant capable of covering an entire underground structure. And, from what Panther had read in the terminal, the situation downstairs sounded even worse.

On the second level, the lights were flickering, yellowish rays coming from the intact ones, but a couple of them eventually broke. The smell still told him something was off, but he still didn't know what was wrong in that wicked place. _If I ever make it out of here alive, I swear I will burn this place to the ground. _In a couple of seconds, nervous, he began humming any song that came into his mind, finally deciding that one about the Vietnam War and Napalm was in harmony with his new oath.

After some five minutes, the two came back from the exploration. Eagle had a slightly scared look, but was otherwise fine. She stood more… confident, if possible.

"What did you find?" He asked.

"A couple of rooms filled with flowers pretty flowers" Panther replied, grinning. "Apart from that, I've found more diaries from Keely. She wrote down that the residents were working on plants with a high oxygen output, sensed for a Vault. There were also notes on how she had been hearing a chirring noise, and had discovered the mantises living down there." The Courier's expression darkened. "She also said they were peaceful, and there was no way some insects could be dangerous to trained mercs. We'd better be ready for anything."

He grimaced. "I knew this place had something wrong. What about you, Eagle?"

"There was an old terminal, on the other side of the lab." She replied, a little shaky. "Even the old Vault dwellers were hearing weird noises, and there was another room." She took in a deep breath. "There were mantises inside, but they just went into a cave. I didn't freak out watching them, though. They aren't that scary." She said, a faint smile on her face. He smiled, too, kissing her.

"You're doing great, Eagle." He said. "Now, let's go."

He led the party downstairs, his weapon and spell always ready. There were more plants on the third floor, a patch of wilderness blocking the access to the level, while the elevator and the stairs seemed cleaner, although more moss grew on the roof and walls almost everywhere. Keram-Rei attempted to move through the vegetation, but he stomped on something.

Something that hissed and pounced on him, pinning him down.

He looked up, and onto him was a monster, a creature made entirely of… lichen, perhaps. He punched it, just to shove it aside but, much to his surprise, he crushed its head, tearing a hole through its face with his right fist. He got to his feet, wiping the green goo off his armor and kicking away the creature.

"By the Gods, what is that thing?" The mage managed to ask, scared.

"Something our Aura Whisper can't detect, since it's a plant." He replied, looking carefully at the corridor. He could see another similar shape in the other patches of tall grass. "And there's more around here. Eagle, we've got to torch this grass, we can't afford any risks."

"You're saying we should start fires _underground_?" She asked, perplexed.

"Yes, I know it's not one of my best ideas, but this way we'll avoid surprises." He replied, sighing and sheathing his sword.

"Hey, these things look soft, why don't we just fight them?" Panther proposed, frowning.

"Because their claws aren't, and I'm the only one who's heavily armored." He retorted. "We're burning this place down, that's for the best."

He readied his fire spells, along with the mage, and proceded to burn down all the flora on the level, high-pitched shrieks confirming the deaths of the creatures. It took them a while to explore the whole floor and kill anything in their path, looking at the rooms with great care, but they finally made it and met next to the stairs.

"Alright, same procedure: I make sure nothing gets in, you two look for anything useful. Move up, rendez-vous in five minutes." The battlemage ordered, and soon the two disappeared. He reflected about the things that had attacked them, and came up to a dreadful realization: they looked far too _human_. He shivered. _Gods, I hope I'm wrong, I hope this isn't the reason why those researchers never came back, why the Vault was abandoned... _He thought, horrified. _Oh, perhaps they never gave the residents the chance to abandon it! No, Keely's notes will prove me wrong, I'm sure. Divines preserve us if I'm right…_

The mage and the Courier came back, both frightened.

"Keram, those things…" Eagle began, shaking. "They're the researchers, the Vault inhabitants, some sort of lichen has grown over them. We've found notes about a mutagen, maybe the same thing that turned them, being used to grow crops." She took in a few breaths, too scared to talk. "Other notes said something about the caves, which are now locked, guards not coming back, a massive disease, a dead doctor coming back to life and attacking everyone..."

"The notes also said the data we're looking for is in the main backup, in the deepest part of the Vault, since it's corrupted elswhere." Panther continued, recomposing herself. "We've got to go down."

"Fuck, I knew I smelled something wrong the second we set foot on that grass!" He shouted, punching the metal wall, denting it. "They're spores, I can tell it, it's the same feeling I had in Black Marsh when next to swamp mushrooms! That's how they got infected, the whole air system brought them around the Vault!"

"Wait, you said the air system..." Eagle's eyes widened on him. "No, tell me we aren't infected, please…" She pleaded, her voice broken.

"We aren't infected, we're Argonians, the worst thing that could happen to us is nausea." He said, then he sighed. "You're human, though, Panther."

"God-fucking-damnit!" She cursed, gritting her teeth. "Let's get this over with, then we'll see if I'm really done."

They rushed downstairs, the Courier shooting one of the spore carriers next to the door, and entered the fourth level. The stairs to the lower floor were blocked by the furniture, maybe a failed attempt the inhabitants made to keep the creatures at bay, and the flora was wild in there, enormous roots spreading across the two floors of the residential area. The spore carriers were starting to wake, growling and snarling.

"Torch them!" The battlemage shouted, as he and the mage burnt the lower floor, destroying dozens of the monsters in the process, smoke beginning to fill up their lungs. When they had finally finished, the metal was now blackened, with carbonized roots and burning moss everywhere, but the area looked clear.

"Alright, I'm going to watch this floor." Eagle said, panting. Casting the flames had been exhausting for both the Argonians. "Keram, look around the overseer's office. Panther, downstairs."

He ran to the office, and found nothing interesting, apart from the terminal. He thought he could give a shot at the desk, which unfortunately turned out to be empty. He cursed, then he started the terminal he'd seen. There were the controls of the crew quarters, the data backup access, and the cave door. While the first two commands were executed perfectly, the third malfunctioned, telling him to find a local administrator. Keram-Rei groaned in anger, slammed his fist into the desk, then quickly exited the room and went back to the main hall.

"Hey, there's a locked door here!" Panther shouted downstairs. He looked over the railing, and saw she was carrying a flamethrower.

"Where in Oblivion have you found that?" He asked, surprised.

"In the utility room, next to the sparking generator. What about this fucking door?" She insisted.

"I've just unlocked it, but we'll better check the place together. Any news?" Keram asked, sheathing his sword.

"Everyone died thanks to some sort of spore, you were right about it." She yelled back. "The thing reanimated the dead bodies, starting from the lungs. Symptoms included cough, fever, and nausea. The victims died in a week, then revived. Oh, and something about the air filters filled with said spores."

Eagle came out from the bathroom, an upset look on her face. He was about to walk to her, but she waved him off.

"Don't worry, I'm fine." The mage said, taking in a deep breath. "Keely's notes told almost everyone died in these quarters, aerial infection, as Panther said."

"What happened in the bathroom?" He asked, worried. "What did you see?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, carry on. Let's explore the crew quarters."

They walked downstairs, then reached for the door. He gestured for them to stop, pressing a button on the console. As they set foot in the room, acid splashed in front of them, corroding the metal floor. He looked up, and saw a giant plant at the top of the stairs. Keram-Rei readied a fireball, then struck, destroying it and a creature nearby. They dashed upstairs, four rooms at the side of the corridor, which was then blocked by a debris. Two rooms were empty, while one held only a large spore carrier. When they entered the last one, they were greeted by three of the monsters.

The battlemage stabbed each of them as they charged, then sheathed back his sword. As he backed up into the hallway, Panther covered her mouth, tears in her eyes, while Eagle fell to her knees, sobbing. He looked back inside, and his heart sank. The three things were of different sizes, one big, one normal, one… small. _A whole family… _He thought, shaken. _Not even the children were spared..._ He sighed, taking one last look at the spore carriers, then he wiped his eyes and helped Screaming-Eagle to her feet, hugging her and caressing her shoulders.

"We… we should go upstairs, take this card, and open the cave door." Panther said, grabbing a keycard from a nearby shelf. "There's no other way to reach the backup, it's all blocked.

They hurried back into the third level, avoiding the spore carriers' bodies, and finally reached the locked door. Panther opened up the terminal, inserted the keycard, and opened it. A swarm of mantises awaited on the other side, but Eagle had built up her courage and burnt them down with an explosive firewall. He patted her on her back, smiling, then led them through the cave systems. They opened a wooden door to their right, which brought them back to floor two and into an abandoned lab. When they came back, they found another swarm of insects and, at last, the entrance to the last level.

Probably attracted by the noise, the fire and the gunshots, there were half a dozen spore carriers and twice as many mantises waiting behind the door. Panther brought up her newly-found flamethrower, and the mage readied fire spells to deal with the beasts. He, however, decided to cast a mass paralysis spell, carefully avoiding the two, since the whole level was now covered in vegetation. Every single one of the creatures froze on the spot, which gave the three time to stomp them one by one.

They frantically searched through the other rooms, all while under constant attack of mantises and mutated plants which, luckily, couldn't move. They finally found the room with the data core. Panther ran at the terminal, while Keram-Rei and Screaming-Eagle fended off the monsters, sprays of slimy goo covering his armor and her robes. They were relentless, wave after wave of mutated humans and giant insects clashing against them as tidal waves.

"Alright, done, let's get out of here!" The Courier screamed, triumphantly extracting the OSD unit from the mainframe

Keram-Rei slashed the last spore carrier, then wiped his blade on the wall. "You said must look for that researcher, though..."

She snorted in anger and fear. "Fuck her, she's probably dead!"

"There are other caves in the other room." Eagle protested, pointing at said lab. "She might have run off inside. Besides, Keely had written the spores had no effect on her, while the monsters seemed to ignore her."

The Courier opened her mouth, then closed it. "Alright, fine, let's move up."

They struggled through the roots that covered the Vault, but they finally reached a gaping hole in the side of the research hall. He led them through the cave system, the air barely breathable. They all coughed at first, but their lungs got used to the feeling pretty quickly. Natural caves made the battlemage less uncomfortable than bunkers and ruins, but he still felt constrained. After a couple of slopes, they reached a large cavern, where insects and monstrous plants swarmed. There were, however, at least three meters between them and the stone floor.

"Too many to fight them up close, too much distance between them to burn them down." Screaming-Eagle muttered, baring her teeth in anger. "We have to jump down, use Alteration spells to protect ourselves, and pray the Divines are on our side."

He clenched his right fist, casting a Dragonhide spell on himself and then on Panther, while the mage worked on hers.

The battlemage locked eyes with her, and they both nodded.

"MUL QAH DIIV!"

He jumped down first, sheer power running through his veins as he burned the enemies down, but soon other flames blazed and burned down the creatures, and laser rounds buzzed all around them. His blade cut through the chitin like butter, engulfing in fire the beasts. Finally, when the area was cleared, he spotted someone sitting in a small cavity. _It's the researcher!_ He thought, and he ran up to her but, as soon as he reached Keely, he unsheathed his sword and growled.

"How in Oblivion did a Draugr reach this place?" He hissed, looking at the woman in front of her: her skin was decayed, rotten, her clothes tattered, although new, and her hair was barely holding together on her head. There was no way she was Keely.

"Calm down, lizard boy." She _said_, and he slowly backed away. _Since when do Draugar talk in English? _"Were you sent by the NCR?"

Panther reached him, followed by Eagle. The female Argonian flinched a little, but she seemed fine with her.

"Wait, stand back." He said, narrowing his eyes on the undead. "Stay away from this Draugr, I've got it under control."

The Courier laughed. "She's a ghoul, idiot. She's the researcher."

"She's an undead?" He looked at the researcher, disgusted, then walked away. "You talk to her, I'm not getting any closer to that… thing. I'll be on the fifth level, if you need me." He announced, then climbed back the rocks, reaching the entrance of the cave. Keram-Rei crossed his arms, leaning against the wall and waiting, gritting his teeth in anger. He hated all forms of undeath, from summoning to liches, and he couldn't bear the thought that a rotten corpse like her could walk the earth again. _They should've let me kill it right away, and I shouldn't have hesitated. When something is dead, it stays dead. It's called eternal rest for a reason._

In a few minutes, Panther and Eagle came up to him, scowling.

"Keely is really nice, Keram." The Courier growled. "What the fuck were you thinking down there? You've offended her, and now she's mad at you, asshole."

"Oh, I've offended an undead!" He said, mocking her and waving his hands. "I'm such an idiot, hating those abominations I've fought for years! Silly me!"

"Keram, my love, she isn't an undead." The mage said, holding his arm, giving him a disappointed look. "She looks like that because she's taken a terrible amount of radiation. Keely is very much alive, and she's a good person, too."

He stared at them, wide-eyed, then buried his face in his hands. "I'm an idiot." He said, embarassed to death, his voice muffled by his hands. The battlemage just wanted to vanish. _Gods, am I an idiot._

"Come on, we've got to reach the second level and hear out Keely's plan." She said, smiling, and he followed the two, often earning glares from Panther. The walk to the lab seemed endless to him, through the deserted corridors and halls, but they finally managed to reach it. He stayed outside, waiting for them to come out and tell him the plan. He tapped his fingers on his pauldrons, nervous, and sighed in relief when the two exited the room.

"Keely says we've got to blow up the air system to clean up this place, so she's pumping gas into the vents on the fifth floor." The Courier said, determined. "I'll go down there, my long fuse dynamite should give me enough time to run for cover. You and Eagle can stay here."

Then, after one last scowl at the battlemage, she walked away, leaving the two alone.

"Oh, Keely also says she'll punch you, if you show around her again." The mage said, looking into his eyes.

"You must think I'm an idiot." He sighed, scratching his head.

"Yes." Eagle replied. They both laughed, and she hugged him. "But you're _my _idiot, and that's completely fine by me." She added, kissing him. An explosion shook the Vault, sign that Panther had succeeded, but that didn't matter to them. Time itself didn't matter, as far as he was concerned. in what could've been a minute, he heard footsteps getting nearer.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you're never going to stop that, are you?"

He was about to tell her to go away, but something the mage did was enough to make the Courier march into Keely's room, snorting.

They broke the kiss just as the girl exited the room again.

"Well, she's destroyed the data disk but, after all the shit we've been through, I couldn't have given it to Hildern anyway." Panther said, shrugging. Her armor was darker than before, and he was pretty sure she'd had longer hair. "This place was crazy, and the thought of people repeating this..." She shuddered. "No, it's for the best."

"Off to Camp McCarran, then?" Eagle asked.

"Let's move." He said, leading them outside. "But this time, _I_ get to choose the music."


	6. Wolfpack

**AUTHOR'S NOTE  
>I do NOT own Fallout: New Vegas nor The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, which belong to Bethesda Softworks, nor the songs I may quote during this story, which belong to... Quite a lot of etiquettes, actually. If I did, I doubt I'd ever think about writing something like this.<br>I had been thinking about this for a while and, reading it again, it sounds fairly nice done. I've decided to add new characters, new Dragonborns which aren't really my characters, but the idea was pretty cool, so I was all like "Fuck it, why not, it's called fanfiction for a reason! I can do what I want!". Well, actually, I was thinking about how new POVs and new characters would've been much more interesting to write... Anyway, if anyone who's survived as long as six chapters is wondering why I don't write anything from Eagle's perspective or, now, from the one of the new girls: I have absolutely no idea how to write in a woman's perspective, so I'm avoiding it. My characters themselves even seem a little unnatural, so I don't want to make things even worse by getting the thoughts and perspectives wrong. Anyway, you've come this far to read a story, not my rants about me being a barely decent writer. Write your reviews for this pretty long chapter, let me know what you think, help me, suggest me, insult me, do whatever you want. As long as you let me know you've read it, I'm fine. Knowing somebody read this is pretty amazing.  
><strong>

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><p><em>On the quietest night, in the darkest hour,<br>The Kriegsmarine appears!  
><em>

**Sabaton - Wolfpack**

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><p>The desert was terribly cold at night. Nothing like Skyrim, of course, but he hadn't thought about that.<p>

Eyes-Of-Silver rubbed his hand against his left wrist. He was used to wearing gauntlets, of course, but he was the one forging them, and he knew the size of his forearm. The thing, however, this 'Pip-Boy 3000' wasn't made by him. It was mass-produced, meant for normal humans. Needless to say, in a couple of minutes he couldn't feel his hand anymore, and now his wrist was itching terribly.

His new companion, in the meantime, didn't even mind speaking. She had barely told him her name, 'Naeera', then she'd dragged her cowl over her head. He'd tried anything, from jokes, to random arguments, to war strategies, but nothing, she'd only stared at him with those golden eyes of hers. _Go figure. _He thought, shaking his head and taking a small blacksmith hammer from his satchel, enchanted at the College of Winterhold to hold anything he wanted. The warrior began carefully hitting the Pip-Boy on the inside, hoping not to destroy the circuits and cursing a little, and in a minute or so managed to widen it enough to be comfortable. He put it on, smiling triumphantly, and looked through the different menus, icons and settings.

"This technology's simply amazing, don't you think?" Eyes-Of-Silver asked, turning towards his mysterious new friend as they marched through the hills.

Naeera raised her eyes, briefly shot him a curious look, then looked away.

His smile faded, then he turned again and sighed. _I'm going to get her to talk, eventually. Why did she even tag along if she isn't going to speak?_

The thoughts vanished from his mind as he looked over the hill they'd been walking on.

Lush green… In the middle of the desert? Even the girl had taken off her cowl, and was looking at the place in pure marvel. When she wasn't constantly hiding her face, he had to admit, she looked pretty, with her golden eyes and feathers, her dark gray scales… She, however, caught him staring, and wore her usual expression again, hiding her face and looking at him.

Eyes-Of-Silver started climbing down, gesturing for her to follow just before disappearing behind the rocks. It took him a few good minutes to get down, since he didn't have a rope nor a pickaxe. The stone, however, was solid and dry, so he had no trouble climbing down, nor did he slip. Just as he reached the ground, wiping his hands, a hand tapped on his shoulder.

It was Naeera.

His eyes widened in amazement, and even she couldn't repress a giggle. He smiled back, scratching his forehead and accidentally hitting one of his spikes, making her giggle turn into laughter. He'd forgotten far too many times he didn't have any feathers, and still kept forgetting it. The sight of her laughing, however, was more than enough to forget the little pain he felt. _Great, I barely know her, and I already like her. _He thought, sighing. _Amazing._

He casually took a step forward, and heard a crunching sound. Eyes-Of-Silver frowned, slowly looking down, and noticed he'd stepped on a giant, half-frozen mantis, his black boot covered in yellow hemolymph. He looked more carefully, and saw there were more dead insects around, either shattered or shot by gunpowder weapons, a huge spot of plants withered from the cold. The feeling in his gut also intensified, some sort of hot sensation which brought him either relief or tension. He'd started feeling it back at the Vault, when he'd first been near Naeera. He shrugged it off as just being nervous.

His eyes scanned the area, eventually stopping on a humongous, rusty, gear-shaped Vault door. He slowly grabbed his hammer, and the girl did the same with her daggers. The way she moved, her dark armor, her weapons… She looked like a thief. _Well, if it turns out she likes me, I could use a really cheap joke…_ He thought, grinning, then shook his head. _I've got more important things to worry about. _There were steps coming from the door as they got closer, with a well-placed swing he could've crushed a Dragon's skull, given his hammer was forged from a femur, so he had no trouble crushing down any sort of enemy. The steps got closer, accompanied by music, he lifted his weapon, ready to strike.

The only thing it struck, however, was his foot, since he'd dropped his hammer. A male Argonian came outside with a confused look on his face, followed by another Argonian, a female, which looked surprised. He had emerald green scales and blue eyes, while she had dark red scales and red eyes. _Just like that Vault guy said._

* * *

><p>Keram-Rei couldn't believe his eyes. Other two Argonians? Seriously? They were Dragonborn, too, he could feel it. He kept staring at them, still smiling, and ran a hand through his feathers.<p>

"This is incredible!" He exclaimed, laughing from joy. "Two other egg-brothers in this Gods-forsaken, radioactive, scorching desert! And Dragonborn, too!"

"Whoa, wait a second. We're all Dragonborn? Are you sure about it?" The other male stopped him, frowning. He was a full head taller than him, bulky, wearing a heavy set of Daedric armor. His scales were between dark green and grey, with horns like his, but no feathers, spikes taking their place on his forehead, somewhere missing, and even more spikes on his eyebrows. The most startling thing about him, however, were his silver eyes, which almost glew, and seemed to pierce right through the battlemage's soul. He had a low, almost growling voice, a large scar next to his left eye and a bloodred warpaint covering his snout and his eyes. Intimidating, to say the least.

"Of course, the feeling in your stomach should confirm it." Screaming-Eagle said, walking closer and inspecting the two. "This further confirms your thesis, Keram."

"And what is this thesis, if I may ask?" He asked, narrowing his eyes and strapping his hammer on his back.

"Well, long story short, we all come from Skyrim, albeit a different one for each, appearently. We come from different realities!" The battlemage announced, earning two extremely confused glares from the two.

"You're a mage, nobody else could be insane or smart enough to say something like that." The other Argonian said in a squeaky voice, holding her chin and looking at both mages. She had very dark scales, gray with hints of purple, with golden feathers, golden eyes and small horns. She also looked rather short, just a little shorter than Eagle. Judging by the light Nightingale armor, the Dragonbone daggers and the way she moved and stood, she was a thief.

"You're right, my fellow Nightingale." Eagle said, raising her brow. This seemed to take her by surprise.

"Fellow?" She asked, shocked.

"Of course, both he and I used to be Master Thieves, long ago." The mage replied, grinning.

The thief's eyes widened. "Well, that was… unexpected. Who are you two?"

"I am Screaming-Eagle, and he is Keram-Rei, mage and battlemage." She replied, bowing. "And you?"

"I'm Naeera, a thief, and he is Eyes-Of-Silver, a warrior." She leaned forward, her mouth next to Eagle's ear. "Don't get fooled by his appearance, he's not a bad guy." She whispered, smiling, and they both giggled. He gave a curious look at the armored berserker and at his hammer, almost laughing out loud at the thought of him picking daisies and being romantic.

Eyes-Of-Silver looked nervous, probably from not knowing what they were saying about him. "Do you, uhm, know something more about this Mojave desert?"

The battlemage chuckled. "Well, there's a madman named Caesar who's rounded up the brutal and ruthless Legion, and then there's the NCR, an organization which is trying to restore peace and order into this desertic wasteland that is Nevada. We're with the NCR, although we aren't enlisted."

The warrior nodded, then pointed at Panther. "What about her?"

"Oh, she's Panther, the 'Courier'." He replied, turning towards the human girl, who was fiddling with her rifle. "She's quite talkative, especially while on drugs, but now she's being awfully quiet."

"Didn't want to interrupt your little heroes' meeting." She replied, strapping her battle rifle to her back and walking among them as if nothing had happened. "So, back to McCarran?"

Keram-Rei looked at the other two Argonians. "Sure, let's tell Hildern how fucked up his plan was, and make sure our new friends get to know as much as possible about the post-nuclear Mojave, eh?" He smiled, bringing up his Pip-Boy. "I think you haven't heard the music this world had to offer, correct?"

* * *

><p>In the end, nobody really paid any attention to the music.<p>

It was good, of course, the battle ballads he'd heard being lullabies compared to it, but there were many things more important than that. The girl, Panther, seemed used to it, instead focused on scanning the area, her rifle high. Screaming-Eagle was ignoring it openly, while Naeera had given them a curious look at the beginning of the song, then started chatting with the mage at a fair distance from the two males, often giggling and giving them curious looks. This made Eyes-Of-Silver somewhat nervous.

"Any idea what they're talking about?" He asked the battlemage, scratching his neck.

"Well, something about us, that's for sure." The other replied, grinning. "Eagle hasn't had any other woman to chat, exchange secrets or talk about… Girly things, I guess. They may be a mage and a thief, two fighters, Dragonborn, but they're probably just going to talk about petty things and facts, or make assumptions about us. That's what most women used to do, back in Skyrim."

The warrior frowned. "What sort of assumptions?"

Keram-Rei gave him an amused look, grinning and raising his brow.

He gave him a quizzical look, then he nodded, his eyes wide in embarassment. "Oh."

"That girl, Naeera, she likes you." He said, and the warrior immediately turned towards him. The battlemage grinned. "I see it's mutual."

Eyes-Of-Silver looked at him in amazement. "How do you…"

"Your movements and expressions are easy to read." He replied, shrugging. "You're probably going to end up like one of those young, happy, shy couples, all cute and cuddly…" The battlemage gave a look at his hammer. "Within reason, of course."

The warrior lowered his head in embarassment, but couldn't help but smile. He'd known her for about a day, most of which they'd spent silently marching through the desert, barely knowing their names, but still something about it made him feel good. Maybe the fact somebody had actually gone beyond his appearance.

He gave a look at the battlemage, then at the mage. "I guess you and Screaming-Eagle..."

"We're together, but it wasn't all cute and cuddly." Keram-Rei completed, grimacing.

"Oh… And how did you two understand you loved each other?" Eyes-Of-Silver continued.

"We were bounty hunting." He began, serious. "I kill my target in a couple of minutes, then I recieve a call from her. She says the camp is empty, and sounds pretty confused, so I offer to help her. Then, the Fiends attack, and…"

"Who are the Fiends?" He interrupted, frowning. "Did you have to battle actual demons?"

"No, they're just psychopathic, drugged and brutal bandits." The battlemage explained. "Anyway, she gets captured, so I get there as fast as I can, lusting for blood, and I pulverize the bastards. Their leader, however, takes me by surprise. He was a cannibal, a rapist, and was a whole lot crazier than the others, that's why I was that angry. So he attacks me first, we fight, I almost get killed, loose a hand, my tail and my horns, and then shatter the other hand by crushing the fucker's skull, but I manage to save her."

Eyes-Of-Silver looked at him, surprised. "You seem fine to me."

"She's a really good healer." The replied, smiling absent-midedly. "So, I am beaten up pretty badly, I'm about to die, but she heals me, and only then I start to notice how awesome she is. I lean forward, I kiss her, and then..." He sighed. "Panther finds us."

"What happened then?" He asked, curious.

The battlemage chuckled. "Eagle knocks her out, takes her away, and then... Well, you know how these things go."

"Must've been worth all the trouble." He observed.

Keram-Rei snorted, grinning. "Oh, you wouldn't believe..." Then, he began toying with his Pip-Boy. This meant the discussion was over.

The warrior looked in front of him. Far ahead, he could see the charred ruins and deserted streets with an unnatural clarity, noticing the dents and the rust in a burning barrel hundreds of feet ahead of him. He had never really thought about his vision, maybe he could just see really well, or maybe it was because of his silver eyes. Either way, he could see saw the piles of rubble, the shattered windows, the broken-down cars littering the street...

"What happened here?" He asked, uncertain. Maybe he didn't even want to know it, after all. "From what a guard back in Vault 24 told us, I understand it was some sort of war."

"Glad Jason's alright." The other said, chuckling. "Anyway, global thermonuclear war, a game where there's no winner." The battlemage replied, shaking his head. "It happened two hundred and four years ago, nobody knows how it started, no documents, no witnesses, nothing. No excuse would make sense, anyway. Millions, no, billions burned, but some were saved from all that by hiding in underground Vaults. The world was completely changed, the human race nearly destroyed, and this is what's left. Ruins, pain, radiaton, mutations, misery."

"It's horrible…" He replied in dismay. "It must've taken years, decades, to ensure all this destruction and death…"

"It was over in less than two hours." Keram-Rei replied, grim.

"How… Why in Oblivion did we end up here?" He asked, mostly to himself. Why did they have to end up in a world ravaged by a war which was over in two hours, away from their beautiful Skyrim? Why had they been dragged there?

The battlemage gave an alarmed look to his lover, who nodded, then looked back at him. "Do you seriously want to know this? It's… completely insane, trust me."

Eyes-Of-Silver groaned. "This whole situation is insane, Keram-Rei. At worst, I might not believe you for a couple of minutes."

He sighed, then looked again at Screaming-Eagle. She silenced Naeera, then began murmuring something. "At first, we thought it was some sort of Dwemer mechanism, we all believed that, but that wasn't it. Somebody's manipulating this, watching our every move, even... _writing down _everything we do."

"Uhm, like the Divines and the Elder Scrolls?" The warrior said, uncertain. This really was strange, he was right.

The battlemage grimaced. "I'm not sure about this one's benevolence, friend. Me and Eagle… we've shared a dream, as if we were one. We've talked to a boy, or at least he chose to appear as a boy, and he told us about how he's writing everything we do, how we're part of this great story of his, how he can even read our thoughts… I hate him."

He thought about how creepy it was for someone to read his thoughts, and was probably scanning his mind right now. _Fuck off_. He thought.

"He didn't tell us much, though, apart from appearently being involved in fucking with our lives." Keram-Rei continued. "He told us something would've been different, but nothing has changed around here, apart from…" He fixed his eyes on him.

"What? What is it?" The warrior snapped in a few seconds. It was unnerving.

"I believe you two are the changes we were supposed to see." The battlemage finally finished. "But, if it follows the pattern I think it does... We're missing two people."

He narrowed his eyes. "What sort of pattern?"

"The Guardian Stones." The other replied, nodding. "You're a Warrior, bulky, clad in heavy armor and you use a sledgehammer, while Screaming-Eagle's a wise, smart and masterly Mage, and your friend Naeera's a Thief. Pretty experienced, too, if she's another Master Thief."

"You seem out of place, then." He replied. "No offense."

"Oh, that's where you're wrong." Keram-Rei chuckled. "I'm a Battlemage, standing right between the Warrior and the Mage. I believe we're missing an Assassin, one using the deadliest spells and sneaking through the shadows, and a Ranger, hiding from the enemy and striking from afar."

He was about to scowl at him like one did to a madman, but then thought about it. It made sense. Very little sense, but it still made some. "And let me guess, another couple straight from Vault 24, just like the rest of us?"

The other Argonian nodded. "Exactly."

Eyes-Of-Silver scratched his chin as they stepped into the city's outskirts, a tower and a few other buildings glowing in the distance. There were a couple of people at a window of the one called 'Gomorra', and they having a pretty intense argument, by the looks of it. "And when do you think we might…"

"There you are!"

They all turned to the left, and saw three figures walking towards them. Two were Argonians, a female with a bow and a crossbow strapped to her back, and a male with a dagger on his hip. Leading them was a human, almost six feet tall, dressed in a olive green jacket, jeans and gray shoes. He had dark, short hair, thick eyebrows and an unshaved beard. He looked young, with a round face and nothing remarkable about it. He looked no different from the many humans he'd seen in Skyrim.

"Oh, you're together, at last!" He spoke, grinning. "I've found these two roaming the Mojave, lost and pretty off-road, so I thought about bringing them here."

Keram-Rei growled. "You."

"Oh, hi Keram." The other said casually, almost ignoring him. "Anyway, time for presentations. Our lady here is Star-Of-The-Marshes, while he is Phyrkeetus, just like you thought, my dear battlemage." He turned towards the two. "These, from left to right, are Eyes-Of-Silver, Keram-Rei, Screaming-Eagle and Naeera. The human's Panther."

The warrior froze. "Gods, is that the boy you've been talking about?" He whispered, upset.

"Yes he is." Keram-Rei replied aloud. "What do you want from us?"

"Me? Nothing, absolutely nothing." The boy replied, waving him off. "I just wanted to check out on you and bring a couple of new friends, that's all."

"Are we going to see your fat face again?" The battlemage asked, tapping his fingers over the hilt of his sword.

"You don't offend me with these childish insults, plus, I told you I'm working on it." He said, smiling. "By the way, of course you are! It would be rude of me, dropping you all into the Mojave wasteland without even saying hi."

"Uhm, care to explain what the fuck is happening?" Panther asked, nervous.

"Something you would definitely not understand, Courier Six, and has very little to do with your original story, but you happen to be involved in it." He answered, and she took a step back, gripping her rifle. "Oh, you can't hurt me, rest assured. But you can still hold your rifle, if it makes you feel any better."

"Is there anything else you came here to say?" Screaming-Eagle asked, raising her brow.

"Uhm, remember to brush your teeth?" The boy said, scratching his neck.

"So you're just leaving." Keram-Rei said, narrowing his eyes. "You'll just walk away from here, and randomly show up again."

"I didn't even decide how to leave yet." He replied, scratching his chin and looking at the sky. "I can do anything I want, here. I was thinking about something amazing." The boy snapped his fingers and, in an instant, his clothes morphed into a steel power armor, like the ones a couple of guards wore back in Vault 24. "See?"

Everyone's jaw dropped, except for Keram-Rei and Screaming-Eagle, who kept staring at him. The boy rolled his eyes. "Yes, that little thing with Vietnam was more impressive, I know. But that was a dream, here I can't switch the location, but I can do some pretty wicked things." He raised his hand, and a building was restored to its original condition, a bright yellow, six-stories apartment. He clenched his fist, and it fell into a pile of black rubble.

The boy considered it, then smiled. "Oh, I got it! A very Italian way to go!" He said, summoning a... _green tube _from the ground and jumping on it with a strange sound. "See you soon!" He said, waving, and fell inside, the tube vanishing under the ground, the asphalt reforming around the hole.

"How long have you been with him?" Naeera asked, dumbstruck

"A couple of hours, I believe." Star-Of-The-Swamps said, shrugging.

"And you've managed to stay sane this long?" Eyes-Of-Silver exclaimed, chuckling.

"He didn't even speak much, he just asked us who we were and told us he was bringing us to other people, Dragonborn, like us." Phyrkeetus replied, scratching his arm. "Is it true? That we are six Dragonborn and all come from Skyrim?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it's the truth." Keram-Rei said, sighing. "Now I have no idea of what he is going to do with us, and it scares me."

Eyes-Of-Silver used the silence to give a look at the newcomers, whom he had barely seen while the boy was speaking.

The female, the ranger, was a little taller than the others, with her scales going somewhere between desert sand and light brown. She had bright green eyes and curved horns, a gold ring on the right one, and ash gray feathers, plus a small scar on her lip. She wore a light Dragonscale armor, and had a gold circlet on her forehead. It emitted a faint green glow, so it had to be enchanted for archery. She was nice, but not as stunning as her name might have suggested.

It was harder, however, to make out the assassin's appearance, since he constantly wore his Dark Brotherhood cowl and robes. He didn't have any horns, and no feathers seemed to stick out of his hood. His scales were dark brown, and he wore a black, tribal warpaint on his face. His eyes were blood red, narrow, and scanned all their surroundings. The warrior didn't like him already. _He might prove himself a great resource, or a menace._

Eyes-Of-Silver scratched his head. "We were, uhm, heading at…"

"Camp McCarran, the NCR's headquarters?" Phytkeetus completed. "We already know that, _he _has told us about this desert and its dwellers, and said that we should know as much as you do. Well, he also began singing songs and matching them to us." He said, sighing. "Is our destiny really in the hands of that boy?"

"We'd better get to McCarran, fast." The ranger interrupted, nocking an arrow in her bow. "There's movement around here, Fiends, at least thirty."

"Didn't we kill their leaders?" Keram-Rei asked, perplexed.

"There's still Motor-Runner, hiding in Vault 3." Panther replied, facepalming. "Dhatri warned me about it, I was supposed to tell you, but…"

"We can handle thirty bandits." The warrior said, confident, as he took his warhammer in his hands. "We have fought much worse, even one of us should be enough."

The assassin and the thief nodded, disappearing in the shadows, and the ranger climbed a relatively intact warehous, taking position on the roof. The mage held her hands behind her back, magically propelling herself towards the same building and landing next to her.

The battlemage unsheathed his sword. "We'll be facing the bulk of the attack."

He snorted. "Let them come."

"They are crazy, not idiots. They'll be using weaponry." The other observed.

The warrior slammed a hand on his chestplate. "I've got that covered."

He felt a hand on his back, and suddenly a dark blue light shrouded him, his scales becoming as hard as ebony. "You'll be slower, but I guess you won't mind having your head covered, too."

"Have you forgotten me or what?" The Courier asked, gripping her rifle. "I might use some of your magic."

The battlemage laughed, walking towards her. "If you say so."

In an instant, she was covered in the same blue glow, and grunted in approval.

"ARE YOU COMING OR NOT?" The warrior roared, slamming his hammer in the street and leaving a small crater.

"Pretty hard to do, when your throat's slit and you're bleeding out in the dark." A whisper came from behind him. He turned, lifting his hammer, but stopped when he saw Phyrkeetus's grin. "A little jumpy, are we?"

"Don't you dare doing that again, assassin." He growled, baring his teeth and narrowing his eyes.

"Don't worry, he won't." Naeera replied for him, walking from the shadows. This made Eyes-Of-Silver feel a little better.

"Shor's Bones, you spoiled us all the fun!" The battlemage whined, chuckling. "Next time we're in a fight, you're staying behind."

Star-Of-The-Marshes climbed down, with Screaming-Eagle following her. The ranger's eyes flashed with annoyance. "We've avoided a dangerous battle, spellsword. You should be grateful, considering you didn't use any defense spells on yourself."

"Bah, you're so boring." He muttered, sheathing his sword. "Now we just go back to Camp McCarran, right?"

"Right." The mage answered, leading them through the ruins in the utmost silence of the midnight Las Vegas.

Car wrecks, destroyed buildings, cracked roads, bent signs and lamps, skeletons everywhere. Eyes-Of-Silver tried imagining people living a normal life in a normal city, then the sky on fire, everyone screaming in horror… He shook his head, he didn't need to go to sleep with those images in his mind. He glanced at the assassin, and imagined him laughing in glee at the same pictures… No, he was a sneaky, mysterious, annoying, arrogant idiot, but he definitely wasn't that evil or twisted. That didn't stop the warrior from not liking him, though.

As he kept thinking about the strange fellowship he'd ended up with, they reached the gates to Camp McCarran, where two very surprised guards opened for them and let the seven pass. There was another checkpoint at the entrance, shooting ranges at either sides, and hundreds of tents past them, probably swarming with soldiers during the day. A great building rose to the right, decayed and rusting, with sorts of covered bridges going in every direction, a tower behind them.

"Alright, Eagle and I will go and talk to Hildern, while you stand around here and wait." Panther announced, strapping her rifle to her back. "No fighting, and no sneaking. The NCR is on our side, I don't want them angry at us because you're being stupid."

The two walked away, entering the big structure on the right, and everybody watched as they entered the door.

"I am sneaking around, I'll be back in a few minutes." Phyrkeetus said, casting an invisibility spell and walking off. The ranger took out her bow and started shooting at the dummy, carefully avoiding to hit the arrows she'd fired, so that she could reuse them. The target began looking more and more like a pincushion.

Keram-Rei squinted at him, then coughed. "Well, I'll be waiting around the airport terminal for them."

He went away, briefly turning and mouthing 'Talk with her'.

The warrior frowned, then almost panicked.

He was alone with Naeera.

Eyes-Of-Silver hadn't thought about it on the way to Vault 22, since they mostly marched in silence, but now the two of them were standing still, looking at their feet in embarassment. Even Star-Of-The-Marshes had stopped to give them a curious look, then slung her bow to her back, raised her brow, and walked away.

"So…" He began, running a hand through his feathers. Once again, he reminded he didn't have any feathers the harsh way, and brought down an aching hand. "Fuck, again." The thief laughed.

"You're cute." She said, still giggling.

Good thing scales didn't let him blush. "A-are you talking about me?" He asked, nervous. How could she find a seven-and-a-half-feet tall, scarred and bulky brute like him 'cute', he would never know.

"Of course I am, dummy!" She said, a big smile on her face, her golden eyes almost glowing in the night. "You get all clumsy and nervous when I talk to you, you remind me of a bunny." _Yeah, a bloodthirsty, hammer-wielding, battle-ready, scaly bunny._ He thought, nervous. The fact she was almost two heads shorter than him didn't make talking to her any easier, but he couldn't help but smile. As long as he didn't have to say anything and she did everything, it was fine. Unfortunately, she stopped talking, her eyes on him.

"So, uhm, I was thinking…" He muttered. _Think, think, think, you idiot!_ Then, he had the right thing to ask. "What were you and Eagle talking about, back in the desert?"

"Oh, nothing." She replied, innocent, then looked around. "Well, actually, we talked about what she and Keram did yesterday."

He bit his lip, not sure if a similar discussion would help or not. "He just told me he rescued her, kissed her, then spared me the details."

Naeera grinned. "She's taught me a thing or two about boys. Mostly about how to talk to them and how to behave around them, being nice and all that. But she also gave me a few more… _practical_ advices."

Alright, now the argument was definitely making him uncomfortable. "That's… uhm… that's nice, I guess."

"Did you have a girlfriend, back in Skyrim?" She asked, tilting her head.

"No, most people were just scared of me." He replied, sighing. "Can't blame them, though. I don't exactly look like the friendly type."

"Neither did I." She said, taking a step forward. "They used to stay away from me, thought I might end up stealing their stuff, or kill them in their sleep _to _steal their stuff. Nobody trusted me."

"Well, I trust you." He said, without thinking. She giggled, and he covered his eyes with his hand. _Fuck._

She took another step forward, now a few breaths away from Eyes-Of-Silver's chest, looking right into his eyes. "You like me, don't you?"

"I…" He stopped, narrowing his eyes at the sound of her voice. It was sweeter, more tempting. "Wait, are you using some sort of spell on me?"

She huffed, clenching her fists, and almost walked away, but he laid a hand on her shoulder, smiling. "I didn't say no."

Naeera's eyes were filled with joy, and she looked like she could start jumping around, weren't it for his hand keeping her still. "Really?"

"Really."

She gave a yelp of excitement, smiling ear to ear and looking at him with those big, golden eyes. She looked like a little girl, aided even more by her height. "I like you, too." She whispered.

"Would you like, uhm, going for a walk?" He proposed, uncapable of thinking about anything else. "Around the... base?"

She took his hand. "Sure."

By the time they took a few steps together, Phytkeetus stormed right in front of them, holding a soldier by the throat, a dagger pressed against it. The warrior almost groaned in complaint, but kept quiet as he thought about fun ways to hurt him.

"Assassin, in the name of all that's sacred, what are you doing?" He asked, angry.

"I'm catching one of Caesar's spies, isn't that obvious?" The other replied, casually. "And I guess I'm interrupting something."

Eyes-Of-Silver frowned, then immediately left Naeera's hand. "No." He growled.

"How adorable, a filthy thief and a stupid brute falling in love!" The assassin replied, mocking them and ignoring his response, as he almost killed his captive to move. "I wonder how you two are going to 'consume' your passion. You look flexile enough to me, thief, but…"

"Say another word." He hissed, crackling his fists. "Just another one, and I'm going to get _very _creative with my warhammer."

"Ooh, scary." Phyrkeetus replied, giggling. "What are you going to do, grip it as I keep a dagger to your throat?"

"How about I tell Star-Of-The-Marshes what you muttered while I was following you?" Naeera said, grinning.

"How…" The assassin froze. "You wouldn't."

"Well, you know, since you talk to yourself a lot, and I happen to have a really good hearing…" She began, scratching her chin. "I could tell her I happened to hear a couple of things she would gladly hear, since she might aswell want to know about your interests."

He growled at her, then shook his head. "Alright, you're lucky I've got a prisoner to take care of."

"Get lost, assassin." Eyes-Of-Silver said and, after shooting him a poisonous look, Phyrkeetus stormed off with his hostage. "What did he say about her?"

"Oh, a lot of things." She replied, shrugging. "Mostly fantasies, which usually involved him, her, and a dark room."

He chuckled. "You're great, Naeera."

"I know." She replied, bowing. "Now, how about we reach the others? They're probably all at the terminal."

They walked by, holding hands, and arrived just in time to see Panther and Screaming-Eagle exiting the building, the second trying to calm down the first, and reaching for Keram-Rei and Star-Of-The-Marshes. "Fucking asshole, I could've killed him." Panther growled.

"Relax, a few teeth less are enough." She said, holding a hand on her shoulder.

The battlemage cleared his throat. "Would you be as kind as to explain what happened?"

"Hildern just wanted the research, ignoring the damage he could've caused and the people he'd sent to die!" She growled, clenching her fists. "And he wanted to experiment on Eagle, 'examine her race', shit like that. I punched him right in the mouth."

"Anyway, we've got the money from his assistant, Angela Williams, for destroying the data and for saving Keely." The mage added, getting in front of her. "Which, by the way, isn't holding a grudge at you anymore, Keram."

"Glad to hear that." He said, nodding in acknowledgement.

"Where was Phyrkeetus going?" The ranger asked, looking at the closed door. "He looked in a hurry, dragging that officer around..."

"He's bringing the spy to Colonel Hsu, I guess." Panther replied. "I don't really-"

The assassin opened the door, panting. "Spy captured and bomb defused. Phyrkeetus saves the day."

"Bomb?" They all asked.

"The fucker had planted a bomb on the maglev." He replied, boastful. "But I had everything under control." _Apart from your tongue._ The warrior thought.

"Well, good to hear that." Eagle said, patting his shoulder. "We've got three tents, one for the males, one for the females, one for Panther. I'll bring you there."  
>They followed her through the camp, through the hundreds of identical tents filled with sleeping NCR troopers. However, she seemed to know her way around, and brought them to two opposite tents in the middle of the base, plus one next to the right one.<p>

"Alright, Keram, Eyes-Of-Silver, Phyrkeetus, you get the tent on the left." She announced. "I, Gem-Of-The-Swamp and Naeera will take the one on the right. Panther, you get the little one next to ours."

"Well, goodnight, everyone." The battlemage said, entering the tent, followed by the other two. There were three rusting metal cots with filthy mattresses on them, but he didn't mind, as long as he could sleep. He sat, the bed creaking menacingly under his weight, then he laid down, slowly falling asleep after that unbelievable day.


	7. The Ripper

**AUTHOR'S NOTE  
>I do NOT own Fallout: New Vegas nor The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, which belong to Bethesda Softworks, nor the songs I may quote during this story, which belong to... Quite a lot of etiquettes, actually. If I did, I doubt I'd ever think about writing something like this.<br>So, new character, new POW. We've followed the battlemage for four chapters and a half, the warrior for a little less than a chapter, so now it's time to have a look at our assassin and, albeit not from her perspective, at the ranger. Be advised, this chapter is particularly more gruesome than the others. I had this ready in a couple of days since one, I like writing this story more with a wider party, two, I will from now on write longer chapters, and three, I kinda wanted to apologize for the lack of updates since chapter 5. Sorry guys, I was ill, but now I'm up and running again. This means school, too, so I have less time to write. I also wanted to give a more regular update rate to the story, but that's nearly impossible, since I only write when I'm feeling like it (but rest assured, I often feel like it). In any case, if you don't see a new chapter in, say... two weeks from the latest, you have my permission to punch me over the Internet. To start this chapter, as the Heavy MG crew from Company of Heroes says, "Goin' for a walk!"  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>I smile when I'm sneaking through shadows by the wall,<br>I laugh when I'm creeping, but you won't hear me at all!  
>All hear my warning:<br>Never turn your back on the Ripper!_

**Judas Priest - The Ripper**

* * *

><p>When he heard the brute snoring, Phyrkeetus knew he could finally stop pretending he was sleeping and got up. He'd recieved a well-paid mission from Colonel Hsu, and he was definitely going to complete it.<p>

As he reached the exit, though, he bit his lip and turned. He could've pulled a prank on that damned warrior..."No, complete waste of time." The assassin muttered, reluctantly shaking his head. "Besides, I might be seen or heard. Maybe next time."

He reached for the outside and, seeing there was nobody patrolling, he decided he might take a risk and avoid using an invisibility spell, perhaps not using one at all up until he got to Vault 3. Hsu had said Motor-Runner's hideout was there, west of Camp McCarran, and killing him should've completely destabilized the already weakened Fiends. The Colonel had also mentioned something about one of those NCR rangers being trapped there, so why not helping him out, too? Money was always good, especially for an assassin like him.

Phyrkeetus sneaked his way through the reconverted airport, hiding every once in a while when a sentinel passed, and finally found himself at the entrance checkpoint, just in front of the gate. Opening it without alerting anyone, though, would've been impossible.

The assassin smiled. "Feim Zii Gron." He whispered, assuming the appearance of a pale phantom, and passed right through the entrance, no guards outside. When he reached for the other side, he dismissed the Thu'um, smiling. "Perks of being Dragonborn." He muttered to himself, grinning, and took a step forward.

Just then, he felt someone grab his wrist. "Indeed, assassin."

He cursed under his breath, turned, and saw Star-Of-The-Marshes in front of him, a slight hint of disgust in her voice and expression.

"Well, ain't this a surprise." He said, sighing.

"I saw you outside of your tent, so I decided to follow you." She scolded him, then narrowed her eyes. "Plus, I wanted to talk about the rather… _unflattering _comments I've been told."

"Naeera, wasn't it?" He growled, clenching his fists, then closed his eyes. "I don't have time for this, I have to clean up Vault 3 and save some guy named Bryce Anders. Maybe when I-"

"I'm coming with you." She said. It was more of an order than a proposition.

He shook his head. "Forget it, I work better off alone. That pesky thief is a living testament to that. "

"In that case, you'll have to suit yourself." She responded, and adjusted her bow on her back.

He crossed his arms on his chest. "You know I could paralyze you, become invisible, and walk away, don't you?"

She snorted. "I believe you would take advantage of my paralysis in a handful of other ways, you filthy maniac."

He growled, furious, cursing Naeera in every way known to him. He already pictured her face, with that 'innocent' smile and those big eyes. Bitch. Then, he exhaled, and finally nodded. "Alright, fine. But remember, we are-"

"I'm a ranger, I perfectly understand this mission requires me to be as stealthy as possible, assassin." She retorted, narrowing her eyes on him.

He sighed in exhasperation. "Let's just get this over with."

Phyrkeetus began marching west, Star-Of-The-Marshes's breath on his neck. "Sadly, only metaphorically." He murmured, smirking.

"What?" She asked, catching up with him.

"Nothing, thinking out loud." He announced, ending the discussion before it even started.

Reaching the Fiends' territory had been quiet, _utterly_ quiet, since both had boots enchanted for sneaking and muffling their steps. Passing the last building, they reached a highway, a derailed freight train taking up two lanes and crushing dozens of the hundreds of cars forever stuck in the traffic. They climbed down, jumping from roof to roof where the wrecks were too thick, and reached for the stairs. She began climbing them, but his eyes shifted upon two fire extinguishers on the landing, and widened in alarm. "Trap!"

The assassin pulled her tail, the only thing he could do to stop her, and she lost her balance, gripping to him and growling.

"What in Oblivion do you think you're doing?" She whispered, furious.

He didn't reply, only laid her on the steps, climbed up to the extinguishers, and delicately took out two landmines. "Saving your life."

The ranger stared at the mines without blinking, wide-eyed, then let out a long sigh. "Thank you."

Phyrkeetus shook his head and turned, disarming the frag mines. "So much for the pathfinder…" He muttered, putting them in his satchel.

She huffed indignantly. "I heard that!"

The assassin groaned in annoyance. "I told you I work alone. If I hadn't been on the edge, you wouldn't be in position to rant." He turned, baring his teeth. "So do me a favor, ranger: stop talking and let me take the lead."

She looked at him, her expression between shocked and angry, but ultimately nodded.

They began walking again, this time crouching to sneak unnoticed though the wagon walls and crumbled houses, but after no more than ten steps he raised his fist, coming to a halt.

"Fiends ahead, three of them." He fixed his eyes on the lazing marauders. "Twenty metres."

An arrow hissed a few centimetres from his left eye, planting itself in the throat of the farthest bandit, who fell to his knees, helplessy holding his neck, then bled out in a few instants. As the two turned towards their comrade, another arrow lodged itself into the left one's nape, certainly between two vertebrae and shearing his spine. The last one looked around and, as he almost saw them, a third arrow pierced and imploded his right eye. The Fiend barely raised his hands, then fell face-down, a spurt of blood coming from the arrow's point as it broke through the cranium.

It had been quick, accurate, and gruesome. He shot the ranger an unimpressed look. "Acceptable. Now follow me."

The two entered a crumbling building and saw, through a hole in the wall, even more Fiends outside, at least ten, guarding the entrance to an half-destroyed warehouse, lit barrels on either side of the road.

He grinned, raising his right hand. "I'll handle them, you stay here." He whispered, clenching his fist and turning invisible. Sneaking through the shadows, the assassin reached the first victim, who fatally decided to stand between two buildings. It took an instant to slit his throat and muffle his gurgling. "So long, idiot." Phyrkeetus muttered, then he followed the wall, still invisible, and peeked at two other marauders standing next to a barrel.

He cast a nasty little spell he'd created, and watched as the female shot her fellow bandit in the temple, then closed her lips around the rifle's barrel and pulled the trigger. The assassin grinned at the brains flying. "The poor little bitch has lost her mind. Literally." He whispered, smiling wickedly. The remaining seven turned around, confused, then rushed towards the two bodies.

He examined them for a few seconds, then picked the strongest one, a rather tall and bulky guy, barely dressed and wielding a large machete. Phyrkeetus used a frenzy spell, and the Fiend bellowed in anger, hacking and slashing at his companions, decapitating, disemboweling and maiming each of them as they fell. When he finished, the assassin chose to nullify the spell, and crushed the bandit's heart just as he realized what he'd done. Nobody else followed. He giggled. "My, my, what did all those chems make you do?"

Phyrkeetus sighed, wiping a tear of amusement. "All clear." He called, and almost jumped when the ranger coughed at his side. "How in Oblivion did you get here?"

She pointed at the ground, shooting him a disgusted glance and holding a hand to her mouth. "I followed your footsteps, you twisted bastard."

He shrugged. "Meh, I've merely done the world a favor. Besides, I hardly believe they deserved anything better than this, and you know it." Then, he raised a brow. "You're going to criticise anything I do, aren't you? Or have you already forgotten I saved your life?I think it should mean something to you.

The ranger looked at him, and he finally saw doubt in her bottle green eyes. The assassin chuckled. "As I expected. Don't even reply, follow me."

She growled, but took in a few breaths, probably to calm down, and followed him as they entered the warehouse. Torn bodies were hanging everywhere on rusty meat hooks as some sorts of twisted decoration, some headless, some missing limbs, other with horrible wounds covered in dried blood. Not even the Dark Brotherhood was that sadistic. Except for him, of course, but now he didn't exactly feel comfortable looking at the corpses.

He heard a wet noise behind him, and instantly turned, dagger in hand. Then, he sneered at Star-Of-The-Marshes, who had doubled over and was on her knees, her stomach's contents on the floor below. "Can't handle all this, ranger?" He said, mockingly looking at her. "Pathetic, for a so-called heroine like you."

The ranger raised her eyes to meet his, which made her stare at the disemboweled body on a pillar behind him. She threw up again.

Normally, he would've mocked her even further, but now he pitied her. He sighed, shaking his head and walking towards her, carefully avoiding the pool of vomit.

"Alright, fine, 'sorry'." He apologized, almost forcing the words out of his mouth. He'd never cared about suffering people before. "Are… are you alright?"

She slowly looked at him, a hint of surprise on her pained face, and shot him a sarcastical look.

The assassin put a hand in his satchel, taking out a napkin and wiping her mouth. Why he was doing that, he didn't know. "I am not used to this, I don't even know why I'm not laughing at you."

She tilted her head, perplexed, chuckled. "I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but… That's really sweet of you." She groaned, then coughed.

"Yes, well, don't get used to it." He said, grimacing. "I think I'm out of kindness for the rest of the year."

The ranger didn't protest and got up, giving him a cute look. "Stop it." He scolded her. "I'm not going to behave like this anymore. Besides, I would make a terrible lover, given I'm only interested in your body for my... needs."

Needless to say, she kept staring at him, the look on her face suggested she was pondering his last phrases. They reached for the Vault door, and he did the only thing he could: sigh in exhasperation.

He pulled the lever on the control panel, and the door quickly slid open. He crouched, took out his dagger…

And noticed the five Fiends staring at them on the other side.

The assassin growled in frustration. "Oh, for the love of… TIID KLO UL!"

The flow of time distorted, as if the whole world had been plunged into honey. He walked up to the first marauder, took her rusting and sticky SMG and shot a bullet to her forehead. He subsequently climbed the small set of stairs, and killed the remaining four in the same fashion. When he was done, he threw the Fiend's gun on the floor, wiping his hand on his robe, and his Thu'um ended. The five bodies fell to the ground with Star-Of-The-Marshes having barely nocked her first arrow.

"If things go bad, remember you're Dragonborn, too." He chided, then crouched to sneak through the next set of stairs and the dimly-lit Vault's corridors.

However, as he turned invisible to scout the area, he noticed going in unseen was almost impossible, given the sheer number of Fiend groups patrolling the hallways and rooms. He widened his arms, aiming at the two different patrols at his sides, and released the spells. They were electrocuted in an instant, turning into smoking piles of ashes and barely leaving their weapons behind. In a few seconds, the ranger reached him, her crossbow at hand as she aimed down her sights. She lowered it when she saw the ash piles.

"Good job cleaning up." She whispered. "I take the right, you take the left."

And so they did.

He walked towards the left area, and saw a lonely marauder giving him her back. The assassin turned invisible, then silently slit her throat. She was dead before she even knew it. Now, he only had to deal with the remaining bandits…

Phyrkeetus looked at the body. "Do I?" He muttered, doubtful. He could just raise her corpse and order her to clean up the Vault. This would've saved him time.  
>However, after a <em>long <em>vacation, his morals finally decided to come back. "She was a bandit, but to have her soul and body bound to my will…" He murmured, and soon thought about all the times he'd chosen to torture his targets instead of putting an end to their misery, all the times he'd accidentally killed innocents and hadn't even cared, when he hadn't hesitated massacring eventual witnesses…

His mind shifted back to Riften, a cold, stormy night.

He held his head, closing his eyes tight. "Gods, no, not that!" He screamed, then immediately focused and recomposed himself at the sound of steps on the nearby stairs, turning invisible. Three Fiends dashed inside, looking at the body of the dead girl and cursing.

They didn't have time to do anything else. The assassin pounced, kicking the middle one and sending him rocking downstairs. He took his dagger and spun, slicing the left one's throat and jamming the weapon into the other's eye. Finally, the last one climbed the stairs again, only to find an ice spike protruding from his forehead.

After he took the dagger back, Phyrkeetus leaped downstairs, a corridor rigged with landmines and explosives on the left, fifteen puzzled bandits on the right.  
>"YOL TOOR SHUL!" He shouted, and a wall of fire hit the Fiends, instantly melting their flesh and leaving only charred skeletons behind. He adjusted his robes, grimacing, and sheathed his dagger. "I'm starting to get reckless." He muttered.<p>

Just then, Star-Of-The-Marshes came out from the far end of the hallway, clearly angered at him and marching in his direction.

"I thought you said this was a stealth mission!" She shouted, walking up until she was a few breaths away. "Do you understand you might have alerted the whole Vault? I am equipped for ranged combat, while you aren't armored and carry only a dagger!"

He raised his brow, narrowing his eyes. "Are you worried about me?"

"Of course I am!" She shouted, subsequently covering her mouth and cursing.

At this point, he would've already laughed or destroyed her feelings just for the sake of it, but he just couldn't. He only felt pity.

"You don't know me…" He replied, grim. "If you did, you wouldn't have said that."

She got closer, grabbing his arm. "Don't say that, you know-"

He pushed her away, growling. "This will just make it worse to accept my nature. Just forget me, it will be better for both. Trust me."

She stared right into her eyes, her expression concerned, almost painfully so. "When we come back, I want to know the whole story, Phyrkeetus."

The assassin closed his eyes, sighing. "Fine, it will be nice to be hated by someone new." He said, then, without waiting for her, made his way for the residential area and ignored the locked area to his right.

He opened the door, broke a marauder's neck and turned invisible before any more could approach him. He silently walked into the main hall, grimacing at the number of Fiends and at the three people trapped in a cage like animals, a bloody corpse left to rot next to them. There were more than a dozen marauders inside, and he couldn't use a frenzy spell because of the prisoners, nor he could use any other spell he knew without them knowing and killing the hostages. "How in Oblivion can I save the prisoners _and_ kill the bandits?"

Phyrkeetus felt a hand on his shoulder. "Together."

Star-Of-The-Marshes stood at his side, so he decided to become visible again. "Ready?" He whispered. She nodded.

"TIID KLO UL!" They shouted in unison, and the world nearly stopped. She took position at the door, calmly taking her crossbow and picking the targets on the higher floor. He took out his dagger, and began stabbing every Fiend he saw on the lower level, the blade piercing skin and muscle, reciding every heart's arteries with deadly accuracy and putting an end to seven miserable lives. As the last of his victims began noticing she'd already been killed, he charged an ice spell and froze every enemy into the other hallway, then he proceded to shatter them with a kick while their eyes still moved.

Time began flowing once again, thirteen bodies and thousands of shards hitting the ground at the same moment.

It took the prisoners some good ten seconds to notice their captors' death and the two Argonians, but soon looked at them in surprise.

"Holy shit, you're the two they've been talking about!" One of them exclaimed, a dirty boy with black overalls and a once-white shirt. "They raided our caravan, and-"

The assassin raised his finger to his lips, and the boy silenced at once. He walked over to the cage door, charged a fire spell and melted the lock, letting them out. The three prisoners thankfully nodded, then rushed upstairs. The boy first, a girl second, and a half-rotten guy following them.

The ranger walked at his side, raising her brow and smiling. "You haven't even asked them where Anders was, and just freed them."

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "There's a corridor with landmines, he'll certainly be there. I didn't act out of kindness, I just avoided ourselves three noisy chances of being killed."

She nodded, clearly unconvinced. "If you say so."

Phyrkeetus shook his head in anger. "Why does she have to be so stubborn?" He muttered, reaching for two stairways which led in opposite directions. He pointed at the left one, then climbed down the stairs on the right side. There was a lonely Fiend at the far end of the corridor, which instantly found his throat cut by a dagger, blood relentlessly flowing at each side of the stuck blade. He took his weapon back with a telekinesis spell, then crouched and gave a careful look at the hallway: six doors, then two other staircases.

He opened the first one on the left, and found nothing but a dead bandit, assorted chemicals lying on the bedside table. The assassin turned towards the one on the right, opened the door and stabbed a sleeping Fiend in her spine, right at the base of the neck. He silently exited, and found the next two bedrooms completely empty, except for drugs of all kinds. When he opened the third one on the left, he found himself face-to-face with two marauders, which couldn't see him, and only frowned at the strangely opened door. Phyrkeetus used this to his advantage, casting a spell and turning the one with the machete against her friend. The first savagely beheaded the second in three strikes, then brought the blade at her stomach, cutting a long, diagonal gash from which her intestines dropped on the floor.

The assassin, satisfied with his work, left the room and finally opened the last door, upturned furniture scattered across the bedroom. He would've ignored it, weren't it for two perfecly-preserved women sleepwear, one pink, the other one with a leopard pattern. Both, however, were insanely short and had an exposed cleavage, so he didn't think twice before putting them in his bag. "Oh, will these make things nicer..." He muttered, grinning.

No, he had to stop it, she was going to loathe him after he'd told her his story, hoping in anything better than that was far beyond pointless.

He heard steps coming from the stairs and immediately readied his dagger, but soon sheathed it at the sight of the ranger.

"What are you doing in there?" She asked, frowning.

"Nothing, just checking for anything useful." He lied, waving her off. He hadn't even bothered giving the other rooms a look, but that sounded pretty convincing.

She nodded, then gestured for him to follow. They stepped into the corridor, rushed upstairs, crossed the main hall with the cages and finally reached for Bryce Anders's only possible hideout. There were at least three fragmentation mines hidden next to torn bodies, and there was something small hanging from the roof on the other end, probably a hand grenade.

He pointed at the dark shape, and heard her crossbow firing a second later, the bolt she'd shot triggering the trap and, unfortunately, the mines. Two seconds.

"Upstairs!" He shouted, dragging her upstairs and closing the door behind them as a deafening explosion roared behind ten centimetres of metal. They both staggered at the noise, but soon steadied. He opened the door, amusedly watching pieces of meat splattered everywhere on the walls, then sighed.

"Close your eyes and take my hand." Phyrkeetus said, almost reluctantly, and carefully guided her through the red and black corridor, eventually reaching the end. "There, you can open them."

She stared at him in amazement when she seemed to notice the blood on the walls. "You did this for me?" She asked, tilting her head.

"I don't like you throwing up and slowing us down." He growled, narrowing his eyes and walking upstairs, where he found an injured NCR Ranger.

"Bryce Anders, I suppose." The assassin said, unimpressedly raising his brow at his bleeding leg. "So much for a stealth master."

Anders snorted. "I killed a dozen of those degenerates sneaking my way in but… one got a drop on me. Try doing a better job."

His lips twisted in a mocking grin. "We have cleaned the Vault, except for Motor-Runner. I'd say it's an overall better work, don't you think?"

"Fuck off, lizard." He snapped, scowling at him. "At least, now that you've cleared this place, let me help you killing-"

Phyrkeetus's laugh interrupted him. "You're completely useless with that infected leg, and I wouldn't rely on your help anyway." He scratched his chin, crouching and taking a look at the bleeding thigh. It wasn't as bad as he'd expected, although it was swollen and smelled of rotten meat, but he had a couple of potions to deal with the infection. He took a small, green flask from his satchel and poured half of it onto the wound, silently ordering the NCR ranger to drink the remaining half. He obliged with no protests, and soon his leg started deflating, the bullet hole disappeared.

Bryce Anders frowned, then looked at the assassin. "Thanks, doc. Now, about-"

"Forget it, you have to get back to McCarran and recieve serious medical treatment, Anders." The assassin interrupted, scowling at him. "Get away, we'll think about Motor-Runner."

He raised a hand to protest, then got up, gave them a keycard and pulled a switch. The wall in front of them slid under the floor, and the NCR ranger sneaked away and opened the Vault door.

Phyrkeetus turned towards Star-Of-The-Marshes. "Don't say a word, just follow me."

The two walked the same way they'd gotten inside, this time carefully avoiding stepping on the corpses and taking the corridor to the left, which brought them to a door labeled 'Maintenance Zone'. "Motor-Runner, such fantasy." He muttered, sighing. "At least Argonian names have their charm to them, like hers."

He heard a gasp. "Aw, thank you!"

"Shut up!" He snarled as he opened the door with the access card, slaughtering the only Fiends standing around by viciously gouging out their eyes and planting and twisting his dagger in their foreheads. A sickening cough let him know she'd recieved the message. "Thank you."

Surprisingly, there were no other bandits up until Motor-Runner's room, where three Fiends stood. A few seconds later, they dropped, three arrows piercing their throats. He walked past them, then reached for the door. "Laas Yah Nir."

Three red auras flickered behind the door, two dogs and a sitting man. "Alright, he's got two guard dogs with him, right at the sides of the door." He announced. "How are we going to do it?"

"You open the door, slide in and kill the dogs." She replied, nocking an arrow. "I'll get Motor-Runner."

"I seriously hope I don't end up like that shopkeeper in Whiterun…" He muttered, earning a poke on his ass from her arrow. He exhaled deeply, trying not to casually disembowel one of the nearby corpses, then prepared for the little stunt they were going to pull off.

The assassin took a few steps back, then pulled the button. Right as the lower part of the door slid under the floor, he dashed, then slid on his knees and thrashed each dog's ribcage with ice daggers right as an arrow flew a few centimetres from his nose, the Dragonbone tip reaching the Fiend leader's heart a split second later.

It hadn't taken more than five seconds.

Star-Of-The-Marshes walked inside and, while he got up, she took Motor-Runner's tribal hat. He tilted his head. "Shouldn't we take the whole head?"

Her eyes widened on him as she energically shook her head. He huffed in disappointment and followed her through the emptied Vault halls, the only sounds coming from the burning barrels or the flickering lights, and they soon reached for the warehouse. This time he almost slipped on the older pool of vomit, but other than that he gladly didn't have to see anything new from her stomach.

The march back to Camp McCarran was silent, and he didn't like that. He gave him time to think about himself, to let his morals claw even more at his heart and remind him that, unfortunately, he had one, so that all his remorse could flow inside. Now, she even wanted to know everything about him, and to relive those moments under his new moral eye… He would've either killed himself, or cried. Probably for the first time in his life, since he'd been trained as a Shadowscale. Emotions weren't included in the package. The assassin had felt nothing when he'd met Veezara after all those years and he, on the other hand, had given him the same impression, not even his death had affected him. After he'd made sure his morale was a couple of metres underground, they reached the airport they'd come from.

"Feim Zii Gron." They both murmured, walking through the walls and entering the still sleeping military base. The effect quickly wore off, and they sneaked, following the wall up to the terminal building's door. She laid her hand on the knob, but he coughed.

"Could… could you give him the hat for me?" He asked, not daring to look into her eyes, since it was probably the only time she'd allowed him to do so. "I need a minute to think... to think about how to tell you everything."

She nodded, a faint smile on her face. "Sure thing, take your time."

She crossed the entrance, and he held his head in despair. It was almost impossible to go through everything he'd done and stay calm, let alone trying to get over his regret. He would've appeared as a monster once again, everyone would've hated him, and they'd only seen him just as a tool to get things done, thanks to his skills. Nobody could've forgiven him, he couldn't do it himself, just to think about anybody else doing it was somewhere between impossible and preposterous. Why did he have to start to feel right now?

"Alright, he says..." The door creaked open. "Gods, are you alright, Phyrkeetus?"

He didn't even dare to look up and meet her eyes. "No, I…" He paused. "Let's find a quiet place to talk, please."

Star-Of-The-Marshes laid a hand on his shoulder, and guided him to the old garages for emergency vehicles. She climbed up, and he followed her onto the lower roof and, then, up the terminal's actual roof. She sat down, he sat in front of her and finally looked at her. There was concern in her eyes, and she laid out her hands to take his.

"Are you really sure about this?" She asked, squeezing his hands. "You look horrible, I don't want to force you, I…"

He sighed, closing his eyes. "You couldn't have known, but it would feel wrong not to tell you who I really am." He reopened them, but looked at his legs, uncapable to look up. "You might aswell sit farther, kicking my teeth would be easier. I'm a murderer."

"We all are, warriors are just authorized to kill." She said, grimacing. "I'm not much better than you, come to think of it."

"Have you ever tortured somebody for hours just because you were bored?" He asked, gritting his teeth. She clenched her jaw shut.

"I have been raised as a Shadowscale, I've never met my parents." He began, as more remorse and horrible memories kept coming to his mind. "The night after I was born, my two masters came to my home and took me away, they then said my mother had given me away willingly. I knew the two had killed my family just to get a powerful asset. I have been trained not to feel emotions, not to hesitate, not to have mercy. I've never cried, I've never fainted, I've never smiled or laughed out of happiness, I've never felt love, nothing, I might've aswell have been a Dwarven animunculus. My trainers said I was special, and as such I deserved a special training, not even being allowed to see the other children as I honed my magic, my stealth, my deceits. I've never actually killed anyone up to when I decided to flee to Cyrodill and then Skyrim."

"Who was your first victim?" She asked, hesitantly looking at him. She didn't look like she liked it, but she was doing it for him. Seeing her watch him in disgust would've been the hardest thing he'd ever felt.

"I killed my masters, I skinned them alive and disemboweled them, and I felt glee at every single one of their screams." He growled with hatred. "Because of them, everything had gone wrong, but as they exhaled their last breath, I figured I loved killing, so I got where my skills could've been put to good use." He exhaled, venting off the anger. "At first, I just stole a horse and ran away. It took me a week to get to Cyrodill's border, hunting to get my food and avoiding any sort of contact with people. I eventually made my way to Bravil, where I planned to join the Dark Brotherhood. The Speaker there refused me, so I refused the fact he was allowed to live and slit his throat."

She squeezed his hands. "You've taken your revenge for years of suffering."

He ignored her. "When I reached Skyrim, I was captured as all of you. I happened to end up in Tullius's fight with Ulfric, so they captured me. Everything went normal as a Dragonborn, I just spoke very little and ignored anything behind my original task. I had slayed Alduin, Harkon and Miraak, even ended the civil war in the meantime, when I heard about Aretino."

"Listen, everyone hated Grelod the Kind, nobody can blame you." She said, trying to make him feel better.

"When Astrid asked us to kill someone, the five of you picked her, though." His voice faltered. "I picked all three, I took their sacks off so that they could watch me grinning as I spilled their blood. Astrid was pleased with it, and I joined the Dark Brotherhood. I never spoke, I hated doing so, I only nodded and shook my head. The contracts Nazir gave me always ended up gruesomely, but nobody complained, as long as I got the job done."

"You used to kill… bad people, right?" She asked, since she didn't know the answer. She wouldn't have liked it.

"My first contracts were homeless men and miners, and I took a pride in scaring them, making them suffer and breaking them just before I took their lives and made the bodies disappear, you've even seen how I work, how twisted I really am. I used to raise the dead, too." Now, his voice had broken. "I always decapitated every witness, if there were any. Innocents, people with families whose only fault was being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I brutally murdered them. This went as long as I killed the Emperor, then everything became boring, and I ended up here." He knew the tears were coming, and did his best not to cry. "I was tasked with killing a girl, once. A clean job, they told me, but I wanted to try a poison to kill her, just to see what it could do. As she took it, she began convulsing, bleeding from every hole in her body, and you know what I did? I laughed." He held his head, tears trickling down his eyes. "She suffered an unbelievable pain, perfectly knowing that she was going to die, that her family was never going to see her again, that she would've never had fulfilled their dreams… and I laughed like a maniac."

He didn't hear anything, barely .

"I've done hundreds of things like these, even worse, and suddenly I feel each and every one of my victims is staring into my eyes, asking me why, making me suffer just as much as I did with them." He said, trying to ignore the tears as he kept talking. "I could ignore them, I would've gotten used to it, but now two of them are haunting me, and I know I will forget them only after my death. I had removed them from my memory."

"Wh-who?" She managed, but he couldn't make out her tone.

"It was a dark, stormy night." He began, a lump beginning to form in his throat. "I was in Riften, I had been tasked to kill a merchant, he used to run one of the dozens of inns in the city, probably made some drunk bastard angry." He was fighting to keep the sobs back. "I broke into the house deep at night, not a creak coming from the wooden floor and stairs, and I silently reached his room, then cut his throat in his sleep, going as deep as to feel the dagger scratching the spine. I killed his wife, too, being the monster I am, just in the same way I did with his husband. but then I heard the door opening." His breath became heavy as tears filled his eyes. "My mind worked as that of an animunculus: there were witnesses, and I couldn't let them get away."

He hid his face in his hands, his fingernails burying themselves under the scales. "Two little heads rolled on the floor. They were his sons, barely six years old, and I just shrugged..."

He couldn't stand it anymore, and he began sobbing desperately, all the evil he'd done in the past crushing him like a mountain, remembering him he didn't even deserve to live, he was an abomination. He'd have put an end to his miserable life by himself, but he knew he would've never been capable of doing so. The only forgiveness he would've expected was a quick death to escape from all the madness, then stay at the side of the Dreadful Father he loathed so much for all eternity.

When he felt her arms around his shoulders, he just cried harder. Somehow, she had managed not to despise him, and was actually trying to comfort him.

"You've done many, many dreadful deeds, I know, and just now you are understanding what you've done." She whispered softly, holding him. "But you're trying to change, I saw that tonight. As far as I'm concerned, you've already shown me: you've saved my life twice today, including that of four others, and countless people in the Mojave will be safer without the Fiends around." She hugged him tighter. "You're a good man, Phyrkeetus, even though you're afraid to show it to others. From what you told me, you've changed so much. It almost sounded like it wasn't you doing all those horrible things…"

He would have never believed it, if he hadn't heard it with his very ears. She truly believed he wasn't hopeless, that he could redeem himself, and had told him the nicest things since he'd been born. Phyrkeetus slowly stopped crying, his eyes an even more intense shade of red after all the tears he'd shed. "D-do you really mean it?" He asked, his usual arrogance vanished from his voice.

She backed up, looking into his eyes with those two emeralds of hers. "Of course I do, Phyr, believe me. You've saved me twice, and I can't thank you enough for that. You've had the guts to confess everything you'd done, you've completely trusted me, you've finally opened up, after all these years."

He smiled. Nobody had ever called him by name to make him feel nice apart from her, and now she was even calling him 'Phyr'. "You've been the only kind person in my life, Star."

She smiled back, caressing his cheek. "You love me, don't you? Despite how mean you've been to me before..."

He nodded. "I'm sorry."

Star-Of-The-Swamps kissed him, every hint of anger and grief fading away from him as he focused on her lips, on her embrace, on the hand he was running through her feathers.

She broke the kiss, staring into his eyes. "About what you've said..."

Phyrkeetus tried to apologize, but he was pushed to the ground as she crawled onto him, a wide grin on her face, her breathing heavy.

"Show me."


	8. Welcome To The Jungle

**AUTHOR'S NOTE  
>I do NOT own Fallout: New Vegas nor The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, which belong to Bethesda Softworks, nor the songs I may quote during this story, which belong to... Quite a lot of etiquettes, actually. If I did, I doubt I'd ever think about writing something like this.<br>Alright, I've finally decided: I am going to update this story weekly, two weeks is the limit. I'm starting to take hundreds of screenshot just for _possible _dialogues, which I may even cut myself or just completely avoid. In the end, though, I believe having many possibilities for a chapter is a really good idea, which can bring to a handful of interesting developments. But then again, being the terrible writer that I am, they'll probably just be great in concept, completely ruined by my rather poor story-telling and weird structures. I seriously have to read much, much more, because the more I do, the more I improve and the better this story will look over the time. Also, I can't believe how my chapters keep getting longer... Anyway, thanks to the few people who follow and favourite this story, it sounds incredible for me to have actual English and American people liking the story I tell and the way I tell it, enduring bad romances and weird conclusions. Keep being awesome, and remember, "Heresy grows from idleness."  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>Welcome to the jungle, we've got fun and games,<em>  
><em> We got everything you want, honey, we know the names!<em>  
><em> We are the people that can find whatever you may need,<em>  
><em> If you got the money, honey, we got your disease!<em>

**Guns 'n' Roses - Welcome to the Jungle**

* * *

><p>Eyes-Of-Silver woke up to the sound of people whispering, three, judging by the number of the voices. He didn't move, in case the others in the tent got alarmed but, since he'd been sleeping on his side, he could easily open an eye and see what was going on.<p>

There was Keram-Rei sitting on his bunk, somewhere between amused and annoyed, and in front of him were Star-Of-The-Marshes and Phyrkeetus, looking relieved and definitely smiling. The fact was _both_ of them were smiling.

The two walked out of the tent, and Eyes-Of-Silver noticed something that startled him: Phyrkeetus's eyes were _purple_, as purple as amethysts.

He waited for their steps to vanish outside before he finally got up.

"What did you hear?" Keram-Rei asked, narrowing his eyes on him.

"Uhm, nothing?" The warrior replied, slightly puzzled. "Well, apart from his new eyes, that is."

The battlemage sighed in relief. "Good, you don't know anything crucial about this." He muttered, then chuckled. "I'm sure Naeera will tell you, though. I bet she's already sneaked up to them."

"What are you talking about?" He asked, exhasperated. He hated not knowing the subject of a discussion, even moreso if other people made fun of him.

"You're going to find out eventually." The other said, shrugging. "If you don't mind now, I'm hungry, and I've finished my supplies back in Vault 22, right before the exit. I hope I don't get any sort of radiation sickness."

With that, he walked away, leaving him with curiosity gnawing at the corners of his mind. _Let's see, what in Oblivion could those two possibly want from the battlemage?_ Eyes-Of-Silver thought, sitting on his bunk and scratching his chin. Illness? No, from what he'd heard, Screaming-Eagle was a fairly better healer than him. Learning, maybe? No, from Keram's theory, Phyrkeetus should've been terribly efficient mage. Jokes? Impossible, if they were the assassin's kind of jokes, they probably included deaths, and the battlemage wasn't as twisted as him. Trouble? It sounded more like it, but still he had nothing specific to think. Unless…

A love affair?

He chuckled. _The day that assassin and that ranger will be together, I'll rip off my horns and eat_ _them. _He thought, shaking his head in amusement._ And what sort of spell would they be looking for, anyway? _Keram-Rei was right: his best option was waiting for Naeera.

He fell back on his bunk, which almost collapsed under his over four hundred pounds of muscles, and looked at his Pip-Boy. If he could've ever managed to access a user manual or a technician's book, he might've been able to pull off amazing things, unlock the object's full capabilities. _Who knows, perhaps it could be used to enhance someone's skills, keep track of them, maybe, or slowly access the body and improve it with time…_ He thought, his mind wandering off. _The possibilities are endless._

A pair of golden eyes peeked over his Pip-Boy. He smiled, sitting on his bunk.

"'Morning, Naeera." He greeted her, earning a smile and a nod. "Have you been sleeping well?"

She shook her head. "I hardly ever sleep, but that's nice of you to ask. You?"

"I've just woken up." He replied, shrugging, then looked into her eyes. They were filled with eagerness. "You've seen something, haven't you?"

The thief nodded. "I couldn't wait to tell you." She whispered, sitting next to him.

"What did you see?" The warrior asked, raising his brow.

"I know it might sound crazy, but…" She stopped, then sighed. "I think it's better if I start from the beginning."

He gestured for her to continue, curious. _Now we'll see what the fuss is all about…_

"I had barely told Star-Of-The-Marshes how crazy Phyrkeetus was and what he considered doing with her, then I went to sleep. Well, I was laying on my bed, pretending to be sleeping, actually, when I heard a very muffled noise coming from your tent." She began, always talking in a low tone. "Then, she got up and went outside. When I decided she couldn't see me, I followed her to the entrance and saw she was following Phyrkeetus. There, he used his Thu'um by whispering and passed the gate, and so did she. I didn't follow them, and I couldn't make out what they said, so I waited here."

"Wait, so you're telling me you haven't seen anything?" Eyes-Of-Silver asked, perplexed. That was hardly proof of anything.

"If only you'd let me finish…" She scolded him, and he lowered his head. "Anyway, in about an hour or so, an NCR ranger came back and ran straight to the terminal, probably to report in to Hsu or something. Then, ten minutes later, they both came back. She carried some sort of hat, but he looked horrible, and didn't even follow her inside. When she came back outside, they said something about 'talking' and climbed up to the building's roof. I obviously followed them."

"What did they talk about?" He interrupted, impatient.

"Give me a minute, I'm getting to it!" Naeera said, annoyed, then her expression darkened. "He told her everything he ever did, starting with how horrible his childhood was, how he grew up as a Shadowscale, no parents, no emotions, nothing. Then, he began talking about his life as an assassin." She shivered. "Phyrkeetus killed people in sadistic ways, and he did that for fun… He was crazier than I could ever imagine."

He frowned, snorting in disgust. "Was? I'd say he still is_._"

"I-I'm not sure how to put it." She hesitated a little, biting her lip. "While he talked, he didn't sound proud, or boastful, or how he usually is. He sounded regretful, sorry, even scared, if possible_._ Silver, he…" She paused, looking into his eyes. "While he was talking about the worse things, he was crying, at one point he couldn't take it anymore and started _sobbing._"

The warrior chuckled. "So, let me get this straight: he regrets his past as an assassin? Up to the point he talks about it to Star-Of-The-Marshes?" He was about to laugh, but contained himself. "I would've killed him right on the spot, after all he'd done. Besides, I think he was just faking."

The thief shook her head, a little angry. "You haven't seen him, you can't possibly know what he's feeling, and so can't I. I think he has a heart, after all, but it just showed up now, and he's realized how horrible his life was."

He narrowed his eyes on her, surprised. Was she seriously defending _Phyrkeetus_? "Naeera, you don't know if he was sincere or not. He's an assassin, a deceiver. He could've simply…"

"I'm a thief, and I'm telling you he wasn't faking." She retorted, gritting her teeth. "I am a true master of deceit, trust me, I can tell the difference between truth and lie."

Eyes-Of-Silver thought about what she'd said and, for a moment, he wondered if she was just playing with him, too. He pushed the thought away, and sighed. "Alright, alright. What happened next?"

"Well, she hugged him, telling him everything was going to be okay, how he'd saved her life, then…" Naeera stopped, locking eyes with him. Hers were strangely wide, and he could see a sparkle in them. "Then a lot of things happened."

He shrugged, vaguely uninterested. "Such as?"

She pulled out a little grin, provocative. "Sex."

"Well, I think…" He began, but then he processed the word, and his mouth fell agape. "What?!"

"You heard me." She said, crossing her arms on her chest. "I watched for a good part, but then I got bored."

It sure explained why they were looking for the battlemage now, and it also meant he head to eat his horns, but... He didn't exactly know what degree of disturbing the way she'd found out was. "You… watched."

She nodded, turning to a bored expression. "They got pretty creative, I'll give them that. But I've seen better things in Skyrim."

He was shocked. _She's done this before._ "You do realize how wrong that is, do you?"

The thief shrugged. "I didn't have anything else to do."

"Oh well, in that case…" He muttered, nervously chuckling. The fact she watched other people when they should clearly _not _be watched was starting to make him feel extremely uncomfortable. She even said it as if it were a completely normal thing to do, too.

Much to his relief, Panther broke into the tent. "Alright boys, we…" She began, then laid her eyes on them. "Oh. Sorry to interrupt you, but we've got to go to Freeside. Tell the others if you see them, alright?"

"I'll find them." Naeera said, sprinting outside and disappearing.

The Courier raised her brow, shifting between him and her. "You two…?"

"It's complicated, since some things she does are quite upsetting." He replied, shrugging. "But yes, we're together."

She chuckled, raising her brow. "Am I going to have a bad surprise, or are you two calmer than those two?"

Eyes-Of-Silver might've managed to blush, even through his scales, but he just lowered his head. He'd never thought about him and her getting intimate. "No, I… I  
>haven't even imagined it, to be honest. I don't know if I really want it. We have yet to know each other, I think it's too early, we might ruin everything."<p>

"That's really sweet." The Courier said, smiling.

Just then, the thief rushed in and sat next to him again. "I've informed everyone, rendezvous point at the entrance checkpoint at seven A.M.. Until then, they are free to do whatever they want."

Panther whistled, impressed. "I only asked you to tell them we were going, and you've set up a military operation."

The other shrugged, and the Courier just exited the tent. She turned towards him "That gives us an hour before we go. What do you think?"

He coughed, nervous, and scratched his neck. "We might… I don't know, listen to some music, perhaps sing it?"

Naeera looked a little disappointed, huffing, but nodded. "Sounds good to me."

* * *

><p>Almost an hour later, they were both laughing out loud at their previous performances.<p>

"I can't believe you made me sing _that_!" He managed to say, almost choking. "I'm never going to make that voice again!"

She laughed harder, then wiped her eyes. "Wanna talk about what you asked me to sing, big guy? I couldn't understand a word of it!"

The two began laughing again, like two lighthearted kids, but then the battlemage entered the tent. "Glad to see you're in a good mood, but we've got to move."

They both groaned in complaint, but quickly got up and followed him outside. The Sun had risen about half an hour ago, and the base was now swarming with soldiers, either training, patrolling or guarding. Some of the ones they'd met saluted them as if they were officers, but Keram-Rei simply waved them off, a grin on his face, and kept walking up to the entrance gates.

Aside from the usual NCR guards, the rest of the party was waiting for them: Phyrkeetus was sitting over the sandbags, shooting furtive glances at Star-Of-The-Marshes, who did the same, while Screaming-Eagle and Panther were just talking. Then, the Courier noticed them, and the four of them reached for the rest of group.

"Tally-ho, we're good to go!" She exclaimed, gesturing for them to follow her as a couple of troopers opened the gates for them.

They stepped back into the ruins of Las Vegas, which looked awfully quiet. The warrior had expected them to be filled with raiders, but there was hardly anything around as they followed Freeside's rubble walls through some sharecroppers' farms, over which some sort of railway went right into the heart of New Vegas. _Something still grows on this wasteland… _He thought, impressed. He'd figured out the plants at Vault 22 weren't natural, and to see something capable of piercing through the radioactive desert's soil amazed him, to say the least.

Then, not too long after he'd eyed a rusting monument, gates made of scrap metal stood before them, a neon sign right above them reading 'WELCOME TO the Strip'. The letters had probably been salvaged by other buildings. There were three men in leather jackets and jeans staring at them, SMGs on their hips, but they let them pass without saying anything.

When he entered the gates, the first thing he thought about was Helgen.

Except Freeside was even worse: it looked like someone had waited a couple of centuries, then had the brilliant idea to let beggars use the place again without even trying to clean up the rubble or pick up the pieces, merely barring the doors to the most damaged buildings, and only opening a few shops and stands for food, weapons or drugs. Ragged people walked the streets and, despite the early hour, people were already lining up in queue in front of a food stand run by a filthy-looking man. He sold what looked like meat, from either squirrels, iguanas, or… some pieces reminded Eyes-Of-Silver of giant insects' abdomens. Not to mention the foul bowls filled with dark green soup and suspicious bits floating. _Now I'm not hungry anymore._

There was a child shouting at the corner of the street, not too far from what looked like a fort with very light walls. He was probably a crier, advertising a shop called 'Mick & Ralph's' and talking about all of the amazing things the duo sold.

"I've heard you can buy anything there." Panther said, grinning and rubbing her hands together, and walked towards the kid to ask him directions. The Argonians exchanged a bored look, stood for a couple of seconds, then followed her.

"… You can't miss it, ma'am!" They heard the kid exclaim as they got closer.

The Courier ruffled his hair, smiling, and gave him a couple of bottlecaps. "Thank you, buddy." She said, then walked back towards them. "We've got to take the road on the left, then go straight up until we reach the shop."

"Why did you give that kid two bottlecaps?" Eyes-Of-Silver asked, perplexed. It made little to no sense to him.

"Because that's money." She replied, as if the answer was obvious.

"That's why after the bomb defusal Hsu gave me these…" The assassin grumbled, taking a bag from his satchel. "I thought it was a joke. You're probably going to need them more than I do."

Panther grabbed the bottlecaps in an instant, wide-eyed, weighing them in her hand. "There's gotta be at least seven hundred caps here!"

_Sounds like too much for a single job._ The warrior thought, hiding a grin. _A mix from both the known task and the hidden one, for sure._

Phyrkeetus shrugged, snorting. "Keep them, I use actual currency."

The Courier gave him one last, amazed look, then she led them through the street. There were fewer people here, but they were mostly drunk, sitting on the ground and giving their backs to the buildings. _This place is embodiment of misery._ He thought, grimacing as he passed them. The beggars tiredly raised their heads, gave them the most hopeless stares Eyes-Of-Silver had ever seen, and looked back into their laps.

The seven of them finally reached a relatively intact building, with a pathetic sign reading 'Mick & RALPH'S' in different fonts.

"Alright, I'll go in, you wait here." Panther announced, serious. "I don't want to scare them or anything."

Phyrkeetus shook his head. "You should. Let us inside, leave the warrior outside. They'll be scared, thinking he's here to hide anything happening inside, and you'll get better prices. Everyone's happy."

The Courier considered it, biting her lip. "It doesn't sound… Bah, you know what? You're right, screw it." She turned towards him. "Do you mind staying here?"

He gritted his teeth, glaring at the assassin. "Of course not."

They entered the building, but he stood outside, crossing his arms. _He's changed… Yes, he's found a way to be an asshole and make it pass as a plan. _The warrior thought, snorting. _He's the same bastard as before._

Suddenly, he noticed three men sneaking up on him. "What's the matter?" He asked, causing them to panick a little, but they walked up to him. When he heard the metal clanging against his armor, he noticed they were armed with knives and lead pipes.

"You aren't going to hurt me this way." He muttered, bored, as they uselessly kept hitting his chest.

Then a man, the one armed with the pipe, decided to hit his head, and broke off one of his horns. Eyes-Of-Silver looked at the broken spike on the broadwalk, surprised, and raised his brow. It didn't even hurt, but the sheer fact they'd dared breaking another one of his horns made him furious.

He growled, staring into his first attacker's eyes. "Now I'm angry."

He grabbed the closest one by the head and slammed him against the wall, feeling the crack of his shattered spine, skull and ribcage climbing up his wrist, even causing a small depression on the wall and making little pieces of plaster fall to the ground. The warrior then took his hammer and, in one swing, crushed the thug on the left, reducing him to a shapeless mass of ripped flesh, bones and blood, some organs even squeezed out of the wounds. The last one tried to run, but the large Dragonborn just grabbed his neck and lifted him up to his eyes. He glared into them, baring his teeth and hissing.

"Let this be a lesson for you." Eyes-Of-Silver growled, then tightened his grip. He felt the man's blood pulse slowly coming to a halt, his breaths blocked in his throat, his neck snapping. He let the body fall, then wiped his hand on his armor and strapped his warhammer to his back.

The door opened, and Panther exited, wearing some sort of high-tech, light brown combat armor and helmet, an improved battle rifle strapped to her back. She was about to say something, then looked at the bodies.

"They attacked me." He replied, cold. "I merely taught them a lesson."

"You don't crush people to teach them a lesson!" She replied, horrified, her eyes hidden behind the visor. "You could've scared them away, or… or…"

"Well done, those were scum anyway." Phyrkeetus chimed in, mildly amused. Still, his purple eyes told him he hadn't exactly spoken the truth. There was even a little hint of disgust in his voice. "Now, Freeside has three less thugs, and you got a new armor." He turned towards the warrior, grinning. "And I believe we all learned a valuable lesson today: never make you angry. Speaking of which, I wanted to apologize for my previous behaviour towards you and Naeera, Eyes-Of-Silver."

The warrior snorted, believing him, but he wanted a little more realistic apology. "Is that so, assassin?"

The assassin sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, his expression a mix of annoyance, anger and regret. "I have been a massive dick, and you were right to hate me." He reopened them, scowling at him. "There, are you content, warrior?"

He chuckled. _Now that's more like it._ "Will do, Phyrkeetus."

"How lovely, really." Keram-Rei said, eyeing the corpses and stopping to look at the two. "Now, we have to reach for the New Vegas Strip, no time for chatting or any sort of apologies."

With that, the battlemage led them through the road they'd come in and then to the left, opening a door clearly made out from a bus wreck. This part of Freeside was more lively than the other, given the presence of more passers, a 'School of Impersonation' and an whole road dedicated to what looked like a weapon shop and a casino. There were also a few armed men standing before the gate, but the Argonians seemed to scare them off.

There was a crier for both activities, a man in slightly cleaner clothes for the 'Silver Rush' weapons shop, and a woman dressed in skimpy clothes advertising the 'Atomic Wrangler' casino, which appearently was also a brothel.

When they were about halfway to the Strip's entrance, Panther stopped them. "I'm going alone, I'll tell those Securitrons you're with me. Don't want them to think you're hostile." She apologized, and walked off.

"I'm starting to think she doesn't want us around." Eyes-Of-Silver muttered, narrowing his eyes on the Courier. This was the second time he'd been left behind, despite her behavior being all nice and friendly.

"Unlike this little adventure of ours, she's looking for revenge." Screaming-Eagle said, stern. "It's perfectly clear she doesn't want anyone around when she'll kill Benny. It's a personal matter, between him and her."

He frowned, surprised. "Woah, wait, revenge?"

The mage sighed. "Yes, a man named Benny tried to kill her for a package she was carrying, and now she is going to kill him." She explained, patient. "That's all she-"

The sound of laser weapons distracted them. They immediately turned towards the Strips's entrance, and saw a smoldering pile of ashes right in front of Panther, one of the Securitrons aiming at her. She gave it the middle finger, then marched towards them, wrath almost literally oozing from her.

"Fucking House and his fucking credit check!" She shouted, kicking a car wreck.

The battlemage looked at her in annoyance. "You said there wasn't going to be one."

"Yes, well, I didn't know." She muttered, lowering her head.

"You've spent all your money on that armor!" He continued, raising his voice.

"It's not wasted money!" She retorted, clenching her fists.

"He didn't say it was wasted." Naeera pointed out, shrugging. "You could've bought the less expensive one, perhaps now you would be both protected _and_ inside the Strip."

"How much?" The battlemage asked, exhasperated.

"Two thousand." The Courier replied, crossing her arms and pouting like a child.

"Well, we could simply sell a couple of Septims and earn enough caps to pass the check." The assassin proposed, adjusting his cowl. "I bet gold is a rare resource, nowadays."

"What's gold?" The Courier asked, narrowing her eyes.

Phyrkeetus groaned in frustration. "Nevermind, it's completely useless. They don't even know what it is."

"So… We're going to work?" The warrior asked, grimacing.

"We're going to help the people of Freeside."

They turned towards the ranger. It was the first time she'd spoken since they'd left Camp McCarran. She both looked and sounded determined, her posture almost royal, all aided by her circlet and her bow.

"And we're going to get paid for that." The assassin added, nodding slightly.

"Fine, fine." Panther said, and looked at the three females. "I hear the King runs Freeside, I'd say we start from him. Follow me." She turned towards the males. "You three wait for us, and we'll plan our next move."

Keram-Rei and Phyrkeetus grumbled something, but otherwise they looked like they agreed. The four disappeared inside, carefully watched by men dressed in the same fashion of those at the entrance of Freeside. _They're probably some sort of security force, or gang._ The warrior thought, crackling his fingers and making them jump back in fear. He grinned. _Or idiots._

"You know, you might be right about her not wanting us around." The assassin muttered, rolling his eyes. He was surprised to hear him agree with something he'd said, but just nodded in response.

"Come on, she just doesn't want to cause any trouble." The battlemage responded, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. "Bringing all of us would be completely insane. Besides, I think she would feel uncomfortable by bringing only the three of us inside. Shor's Bones, if I were her, I wouldn't walk with only three men at my side, either."

The assassin snorted. "And why is that?"

"Are you seriously that stupid or are you trying really hard?" Keram-Rei said, chuckling as he raised his brow.

They didn't speak another word for several minutes, up until the other four came out of the King's School of Impersonation. Eyes-Of-Silver couldn't really make out their expressions, but they certainly had some work for them. The seven formed a circle, ready for any orders.

"Alright, there's some people who might have some work for us." Panther announced, smirking. "Keram, Eagle, you're with me. King's business."

The battlemage nodded, getting at her side. "Roger that."

The Courier turned towards Star-Of-The-Marshes. "Star, I want you and Naeera to help the Followers of the Apocalypse, at the old fort past the gates."

They both stormed off to the south, Naeera giving him a warm smile before she disappeared into the other part of Freeside.

He understood who his partner was, and sighed heavily.

"Silver, Phyr, you're going to the Atomic Wrangler, see if they have anything for us." She ordered, pointing at the road in which the casino was. "While a casino isn't my first choice for helping this place out, they might actually pay really good caps."

The assassin bowed. "As ordered." Then they both walked into the small street.

The two criers hesitated at first, but kept shouting as they passed them.

"You want someone dead? _Really_ dead? Stop by the Silver Rush and we'll give you the means!" The man on the left said aloud, gesturing for other passers to stop by.

The woman on the right was more graceful, but she still looked like a whore to the warrior. "Hungry? Thirsty? Horny? The Atomic Wrangler has you covered!"

"Gods, could this world become any more indecent?" Eyes-Of-Silver grumbled, grimacing and shaking his head. The only place where he'd seen actual prostitution was Riften, since most people in the rest of Skyrim didn't tolerate the women practising it, and even then he was far from ok with it. _Selling your own body…_ He thought, opening the casino's door. _What a pity._

The stench of smoke and alcohol overwhelmed the two as they entered. It was among the lousiest and filthiest buildings he'd ever seen: the wooden floor was rotting, and the wallpaper had almost completely peeled away; people were obsessively gambling, often with whiskey bottles or women at their sides; a rotting man in a matching white suit was making the saddest and less funny jokes he'd ever heard, standing on a ruined stage, and people were outright ignoring him. The warrior almost pitied him, and felt pure contempt for the people already staying there in the morning, wasting their lives on games of luck, tipples and prostitutes.

"Welcome to the Atomic Wrangler." A woman said, and they both turned to see her. Weren't it for her stature and her gray business suit, she would've looked exactly like an Altmer. She was giving them a mistrustful but curious look, her arms crossed on the bar's counter, but didn't seem to actually mind they were Argonians. "What can I get you?"

"Good morning, miss." The assassin said, blatantly smiling and talking in a sweeter tone than usual. Good thing humans didn't quite decipher their expressions, as she seemed to soften up a bit. "We've been told you might have some work for us. Correct?"

She smirked. "You've been told right, I have some work I need handled." The woman announced them. "Back before we instituted the caps up front rule, we used to…"

"Just tell me what to do." Eyes-Of-Silver interrupted and snorted, eager to set foot on the Strip and get out of the damned place.

She narrowed her eyes, laying a hand on her hip. "We need someone to collect. The job would pay a percentage."

"And what would this percentage happen to be?" He asked, raising his brow. The assassin, in the meantime, had started talking with a man behind the counter, who wore a white suit and looked fairly similar to the woman. _Brothers. Twins, perhaps._

"If you bring all their debts back, we'll give you a cut of each." She replied, picked a tankard and began cleaning it. "25% is…"

"Dreadful." He completed for her, disappointed. "I'm the one collecting debts, and I believe 50/50 would make a better deal."

She sighed. "All right, 50/50 it is. But you better bring all of the caps…"

"Give me my targets." The warrior said, crossing his arms.

"A little eager, are we?" She asked, grinning. "Great. There are three people who need to be tracked down, a real misked basket of fruits. Their names are Gecks, Santiago and Lady Jane."

He walked away before she could continue, his eyes still on her. "I'll be back in a minute."

Eyes-Of-Silver opened the door, and was surprised to see Phyrkeetus swiftly following him, passing him in an instant and sighing in relief. "I'll get back there once more just to get paid, and then nothing." He announced, disgusted.

The warrior raised his brow, hiding his amusement. "What happened, exactly?"

"I've been asked to look for new prostitutes." The other said, grimacing, and shuddered.

He was honestly impressed. An assassin like him had been _shocked_ by such a task? "It doesn't sound that awful, at least from your perspective."

The assassin growled, narrowing his eyes on him. "Forgive me, but looking for a smooth takler, a cowboy ghoul and a sexbot doesn't exactly turn me on."

Eyes-Of-Silver clutched his hands to his stomach, closing his eyes in disgust and feeling he was about to throw up. "You are joking, please tell me you are joking.." He muttered, hoping to forget what he'd just heard. "How can someone be this… this…"

"Fucked-up?" Phyrkeetus completed, grimly shaking his head. "I don't want to know."

They looked at each other for a brief moment, then they parted ways.

* * *

><p>It didn't take him long to figure he had absolutely no idea who he was looking for, so he'd finally built up his courage, tried to look as friendly as possible, and walked up to a nearby woman."<p>

"Uhm, excuse me?" He asked, uncertain, and her eyes went wide.

"Where can I find a certain Lady Jane?" The warrior continued, and the passer raised a shaking arm, pointing at the Strip's entrance.

"Thank you." He replied, smiling and, as soon as he turned, he heard footsteps running away. Up to the middle of the cracked avenue, everything looked fine, but six men surrounded him in an instant. They didn't look too different from the ones he'd annihilated before, except for being filthier.

"Give us all you've got!" One of them hissed, waving a rusty knife at him. He looked a little too young to use that weapon, and his expression was far beyond scared. The others weren't much different, he noticed.

Eyes-Of-Silver looked at them, saddened. "Please, just go away. Don't force me to kill you, I couldn't stand having to kill kids."

"I said, give us all you've got!" The one in front of him snarled, trying to stab his chest. The knife bounced off and fell off the kid's hands.

The warrior gripped his hammer, and they all yelped in terror. "Come and get it!" He roared, making a crater in the ground with just one swing. They just ran away, screaming and crying. _At last. _He thought, sighing in relief, and reached for a small camp near the Securitrons. _Stupid and stubborn people I can kill, sure, but those six didn't even have a beard..._

There were several people sitting on the ground, holding their heads, but a woman stood out, having somewhat combed hair and a yellow dress.

"Are you Lady Jane?" He asked, approaching her.

She winced a little, but then smiled. "Hello, lovely to meet you." She replied, friendly.

The warrior was already starting to feel guilty about this job, his conscience slapping him several times for what he had to ask. "I was hired by…" He tried to continue, but the way her smile faded told him he just couldn't. This wasn't what he was made for, he couldn't take away all the money these three had and walk away, he would've felt too guilty about ruining three people's lives like that. "You know what? Forget it, your debt with the Atomic Wrangler is paid."

Her smile was the widest he'd ever seen on a human. "Oh my God, the debt with Francine Garret?" Lady Jane asked in pure disbelief. "I can't believe it, I thought…"

"I just want you to tell two people their debts are also gone, alright?" He asked, interrupting her, and she energically nodded. "Good. Their names are Santiago and Grecks. Just… don't waste your money again, alright? Be careful next time."

Jane nodded again, hugging him and running off to the other two.

Eyes-Of-Silver walked away, sighing out loud in relief and passing the blue gates to reach for the poorer part of Freeside, headed straight towards Mick & Ralph's. He entered the shop by almost breaking through the dore, much to the two's surprise, and went up to the closest man, who wore a light brown shirt and a pair of worn-out jeans, an energy weapon strapped to his back.

"I want to sell something." The warrior announced, his voice the usual low growl.

The man raised his brows, then straightened up. "Of course, of course. I'm Mick, by the way."

"Nice to meet you." He replied, brought a hand to his satchel, and took out an Elven longsword. He'd been carrying it for a long time, always forgetting to sell it or throw it away, but now he remembered it perfectly. "How much for this?"

Mick's eyes widened in amazement as he took the blade in his hands, carefully looking at it and weighing it. "Holy… what's it made of?"

"It's a particularly resilient alloy made of Moonstone and Quicksilver, with the addition of iron to make sure it doesn't break right away, given they're extremely hard yet extremely fragile materials." Eyes-Of-Silver replied, grinning. "The crossguard is covered in refined, high-quality leather, softer than the one you'd usually see on any other blade."

"I don't know half of the materials, but it's plain amazing!" The other replied, completely stupified, "I can't think of anything to…"

"In that case, I'll take two thousand five-hundred caps and a particularly big and undamaged weapon, along with a sturdy strap, a great quantity of ammunition, spare parts and pouches to carry the last two. I was thinking about a 25mm U.S. Army grenade-launching MG system, complete with a high-velocity kit." The warrior said, crossing his arms. The photo of that weapon he'd seen in Vault 24 had impressed him greatly, and he wanted to get his hands on one of those as soon as possible. "Plus all the books, manuals and readable things you've got. Does that sound good to you?"

Mick laughed. "Only that for the sword? I'd be robbing you, you know that?"

"It's trash anyway." He replied, grinning at the merchant's puzzled look. "Well? Where are my things? Chop chop!"

The man rushed off to the merchant dressed in a red shirt, presumably Ralph, and quickly showed him the sword. They both ran around the shop, one frantically looking for anything readable he could find, the other opening a portion of the wall and entering. In no more than a couple of minutes, he was walking out of the shop with several leather pockets on his chest, filled with grenade magazines and spare parts, a particularly clean and wicked heavy weapon strapped next to his hammer, several books in his enchanted satchel and two bags with a total of 2500 bottlecaps on his hip. He definitely had to bring around more trash.

"That's completely badass!"

He turned to his left, and saw Naeera grinning madly at him. He smiled back.

"I figured I could put an old thing to good use and sell it." The warrior casually replied, surprised by her presence. "But what about you?"

"I've been looking to make deals between the Followers and shoppers around Freeside, all to ensure better medical equipment for the former. I've been looking around every activity in Freeside, and this was my last stop." She explained, but her eyes were still focused on his new weapon. "That's the most badass thing I've ever seen."

"It's a mix between a grenade launcher and a machinegun." He replied, grinning at her gaping mouth and taking the weapon from his back. "I figured it was time for an upgrade, don't you think?"

The thief was staring at the grenade machinegun in pure amazement. "I'm definitely going to buy something cool later."

Although he really liked impressing her, he thought about the mission for the Garret twin. "Listen, Naeera, I really have to go. It's nice to see you, but..."

She waved him off. "It's cool, we're all busy with something around here. See you later." She said, smiling, and managed to climb him and kiss his cheek.

Eyes-Of-Silver just smiled at her, dumbstruck, then shook his head and walked back to the Atomic Wrangler in an instant, not even bothering to look at the criers or at the miserable people littering the street. He pushed the door open, and headed straight for the woman behind the counter.

"Miss Garrett." The warrior greeted, dropping the smallest bag of the two in front of her.

Francine Garret smirked, nodding in approval and giving him another small bag. "I don't care how you handled those lumps of human refuse, but you got the job done. We need you to hunt down another person. That son of a bitch, McCaffery, stole a ton of caps and ran off to Vegas." She rolled her eyes. "I guess the fact that we farmed out his usual work to you pissed him off. No one steals from the Garret Twins!" The businesswoman exclaimed, slamming her fist onto the counter. "If you can kill that bastard and bring back as much as you can, you'll be paid very well."

He grinned. "My friends and I are heading for the Strip. I will crush McCaffery, rest assured."

"Good, just stop on back when he's dead and you'll be rewarded handsomely." Francine said, snorting in approval. "Bring his hat as proof of the kill."

The warrior just slightly nodded and walked away, getting as far as he could from the place. _Like Oblivion I'm doing anything else for you._ He thought, closing his eyes in relief, and bumped into someone.

A familiar growl and two furious purple eyes met his. "Watch it."

Phyrkeetus was followed by a blonde man, a female ghoul and a gray-and-blue robot. He almost shuddered, but managed to nod in apology and walk away from the strange fellowship, desperately trying not to think about what the three could do. He eventually stood not too far from the King's place, crossing his arms and looking at the yellowish morning sky.

"How in Oblivion did you get such a thing?" A familiarly hostile voice asked, almost certainly narrowing his eyes.

"I just sold an old sword." He replied as he turned, shrugging.

The assassin's eyes flared. "Why didn't you do this before I had to do _that_, before I had to gather that walking mass of nightmares?" He hissed, baring his teeth in fury and what looked like contempt. "You have no idea how..."

Two figures stopped him from further ranting. "Hey, how did that thing go?" Naeera asked the warrior, coming out of the gate with Star-Of-The-Marshes. They both looked happy, unlike a certain assassin in front of him.

"We've got the job done." Eyes-Of-Silver replied, grinning. "You?"

"Oh, we've been helping Freeside, it was great!" The ranger exclaimed, enthusiastically clapping her hands together. "It felt amazing, all the people smiling and looking up to you with hope in their eyes... Nice gun, by the way." She added, smirking.

Panther, Keram-Rei and Screaming-Eagle came a few minutes later, exchanging quick looks with them and entering the King's building without speaking a word. The trio exited not too much later, visibly relieved from a heavy task.

"We've avoided a conflict between the Kings and the NCR." Panther announced, panting. "I think we've got enough money to get into the Strip, don't we?"

They all gave the Courier the bottlecaps they'd gotten, but when the warrior gave her two bags, they all looked at him.

"I sold some junk at Mick & Ralph's." He muttered, lowering his head. "I could've saved us a lot of time, but I just thought about it now."

He waited for complaints and insults, but the other five just hummed in approval and shrugged, smiling.

"I never bring anything useless with me." The battlemage said, looking around. "Same thing applies for the others. This means we've got even more caps, and I believe they're certainly going to prove useful."

"Yeah, we're gonna have a lot less to think about." The Courier agreed, then clapped her hands eagerly, grinning.

"Alright people, we're off to the Strip!"


	9. Purple Heart

**AUTHOR'S NOTE  
>I do NOT own Fallout: New Vegas nor The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, which belong to Bethesda Softworks, nor the songs I may quote during this story, which belong to... Quite a lot of etiquettes, actually. If I did, I doubt I'd ever think about writing something like this.<br>This chapter came out amazingly early, I have to admit, but writing took all my time and I managed to finish it in no more than a day. It's a little shorter than my new standard, and I sincerely apologize if it will look like a rushed and poor chapter, but I'm fairly convinced this is much more intense than the others. I felt pretty bad as I wrote it, and you'll definitely understand why, but it just felt like the right way to keep the story going, and I'm sure this will make our characters develop rather nicely, although you're the ones to ultimately decide wether this is good or bad. "Stay vigilant, brothers."  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>Shining heart beats no more,<br>Buried deep, deep in cold earth...  
>Shallow grave in my motherland!<br>Here I stay, lay in darkness forever..._

**Sabaton - Purple Heart**

* * *

><p>Keram-Rei nervously brought his hand to his sword's hilt, just in case anything went wrong. He'd never liked automatons, and it was probably connected to him not liking underground spaces and Falmer-riddled ruins, even though a sickly yellow sun was shining on him right now, and was light years away from those horrors.<p>

"Submit to a credit check or present your passport before proceeding to the gate." The Securitron ordered, deadpan, the face of a grumpy police officer on its screen as it got closer. "Trespassers will be shot." It added, probably programmed to sound more menacing.

"I guess I'll go with the credit check." Panther said, grinning as she gave the robot a small bag.

The robot took the bottlecaps in its hand for a moment, then handed them back to her. "Thank you, madam. You may proceed."

She turned towards them, her eyes invisible behind the dark visor, and gestured for them to follow. The battlemage walked immediately to her right, avoiding the robots and shooting them suspicious glances. If he remembered correctly, now they'd find Victor again. The thing was just… wrong, it felt too alive and cheerful to be a lifeless hunk of metal with a programmed AI.

They entered the New Vegas Strip, greeted by the light emanated by the signs and the windows of the casinos, neons of every shape and dimension shining everywhere in fancy and colorful fonts, standing on the walls of even more amazing buildings. On the ground, a stunning number of drunk NCR personnel was roaming around, either staggering, drinking, vomiting or picking up arguments with fire hydrants. Panther was, however, unnaturally quiet and on edge, any enthusiasm gone from her as she glanced around her. As he scanned the place, he noticed a considerable amount of Securitrons standing at crucial points, like entrances to the casinos and the access points to the other side of the Strip, some patrolling the roads in groups of three to discourage any brawls.  
><em><br>House's security force, eh?_ Keram-Rei thought, narrowing his eyes on them. He didn't like the idea of relying on automated defenses. While a man could always be corrupted, of course, a machine could be hacked, not counting it would take small account of pleading or innocence, probably being programmed to kill on sight any criminal, whatever the crime may be, wether there was a trial or not.

"This place is slightly less miserable than Freeside, I'll give them that." Phyrkeetus grumbled, barely audible, and the battlemage sadly agreed with him. Without the shiny neons, the casinos would've looked far too dirty to have a civilized or new look, the road was ruined as always, just devoid of any wrecks, while there were dozens of broken people outside of the doors, then there were the barely-dressed strippers who were dancing and touching themselves outside of the Gomorrah casino and, just to make it all better, there were the ominous scrap walls reminding of how the Mojave Wasteland outside really was. It just held the illusion of civilization, but this time misery was carefully swept under the carpet.

"Howdy, pardner!" A familiar voice called them. He groaned as the six followed the Courier to Victor. "You've come a far piece, haven't you? Welcome to New Vegas!" It kept cheering, emanating utter wrongness and sending shivers down the battlemage's spine.

"Victor, good to see you!" Panther cheered back with a blatantly fake smile and tone. "What are you doing here?"

"Consider me your personal welcome wagon!" It replied, always doing those awkward gestures. "Now hear this: the head honcho of New Vegas, Mr. House, is itching to make your acquaintance. Just head for the Lucky 38. It's the big ol' tower shaped like a roulette spinner."

"Well, we're getting there straight off." She announced, nodding slightly.

"Yeehaw, partner! That's the spirit!" Victor shrieked in… _happiness_, clapping its metal hands together. "He'll be waiting for you inside."

That said, the robot's screen changed, now displaying the same police officer face as the others, instead the trademark cowboy.

"It infected another Securitron to talk to you..." The battlemage said, his eyes narrowed on the security robot as it rolled away. "Either Victor is more than it seems, perhaps even a huskless software, or House can manipulate his Securitrons the way it most pleases him."

Instead of asking him how an Argonian like him could know such things about softwares, robots and security, she just grimly nodded. "Alright, let's see what House wants, and then I'll go at The Tops Casino. Alone."

Nobody spoke up, so they climbed the few steps towards the Lucky 38's entrance and, standing before them, once again they met Victor.

"Well howdy, pardner! Good to see ya again." It cheered for the second time. _I am going to melt it down if it doesn't stop to talk and gesture like an_ _idiot. _He thought, almost hissing at it. "Boss is waiting for ya upstairs, so get a move on!"

The Courier slightly tilted her head. "Thank you, Victor."

"I see you brought some friends!" The robot added, pointing at the six Dragonborn Argonians in front of it as if they were a common sight. "Sorry, pardner, but they're gonna have to stay outside."

She turned towards them, and they did the only thing they could do: nod. "I will follow House's rules, then." She said, disappointed.

"Come back soon now!" The robot replied, as the walls slid open and revealed four doors to the casino. The Courier and the Securitron swiftly opened one of them and disappeared inside, but not before she gave them one last blank look.

When the door closed, they all looked at each other in varying levels of annoyance. The assassin was fuming, the crackle of his fingers barely audible as he bared his teeth and narrowed his eyes on the casino; Eyes-Of-Silver was just gritting his teeth, probably more resentful than the others since he'd been left behind for three times, not two as the others; the girls just huffed and rolled their eyes.

"I don't trust this House, it's a trap." The battlemage growled, thinking about all the possible traps Panther could be drawn into. _The man wants her to work for him, and will only take a 'Yes' as an answer. _He thought, grimacing. The place, although it had been closed for years, according to the NCR troopers he'd talked to, was probably filled to the brim with Securitrons, cameras, turrets and other automated systems he couldn't even think of. The Courier was well equipped, and definitely a good fighter, but she could hardly stand against an army of robots. He wasn't angry at her, he was angry at the mysterious and manipulative ruler of New Vegas.

"And Victor had been sent by House all along." Screaming-Eagle said, her voice a mix of anger and contempt. "It didn't want to help her, it was just programmed to do so in order to pursue whatever had been stolen from him. Panther was just a new pawn to play with, a Courier whose only aim should've been taking her package back and working for him like a mindless slave."

"Wait, are you telling me you've met that tin can before?" The warrior asked, narrowing his eyes on the two.

"Yes, we've encountered it during our first night in the Mojave, three days ago." Keram-Rei replied. "We hadn't even reached McCarran, standing just outside a giant pile of NCR rubble named Boulder City, when it found us." He narrowed his eyes, glaring at the enormous and grotesque casino. "More specifically, its target."

The other four exchanged worried looks, until Eyes-Of-Silver gave the battlemage a determined look. "We're getting her out."

The mage gave him an icy, amused stare. "Don't be an idiot, Eyes-Of-Silver, she is going to be killed if any one of us gets inside. We can only wait, and hope for the best." She said, veiled concern in her voice."

"What are we going to do?" Phyrkeetus asked, shrugging in doubt. "We can't get in, we can't get out... What in Oblivion are we supposed to do, then?"

The battlemage thought about it for a moment, thoughtfully scratching his chin. "Well, we might have a look around the-"

"I am not walking anywhere in this city of sin, especially not _there_." The ranger snarled, pointing at the Gomorrah with a look of pure disgust and hatred. "I shall wait for her right on this spot."

"… Or we might not have a look around." Keram-Rei sighed, rubbing his temples in exhasperation. _We're going to have to wait for Panther until we make our next move…_

In the meantime, a small crowd had gathered at the steps of the Lucky 38 without them noticing. He turned, and saw various gamblers and soldiers looking at them in pure awe, although he believed it had very little to do with their Argonian nature, since three days were a long time for drunk troopers to spread word of their deeds and their appearance. No, their eyes were fixed on the doors of the casino, opened after endless years of silence.

A young NCR soldier hesitantly walked up the steps, standing just a few metres behind the six Dragonborn. He had buzz-cut hair, thin eyebrows, was clean shaved, and wore a pair of cracked glasses.

"Hey there, Jenkins." Keram-Rei said, grinning. He was the one he'd asked information about Freeside, back at Camp McCarran.

The trooper turned towards him, visibly surprised, and saluted. "Mister Keram-Rei, sir. It's an honor to meet you again. How-"

He waved the boy off. "Knock it off, I'm not a military officer here. I used to be what you'd call a Colonel, we all did." He gestured at the five Argonians. "But this isn't Tamriel, and I'm afraid the NCR doesn't recognize our ranks within the Imperial Legion. So, call me Keram, as I've told you five times already."

"Yes, mis… Keram." The soldier said, a little uncertain. "It's just… you've managed to kill four Fiend leaders in just a day!"

"Wait, four?" Screaming-Eagle asked, perplexed. "We only killed three, boy." _Oh, this is going to be fun._

"No, Colonel Hsu told us about two of you going into Vault 3, killing Motor-Runner and rescuing ranger Bryce Anders!" The soldier retorted, determined.

"Ah, that was the part I was missing." Naeera muttered, a devilish grin on her face as the warrior chuckled. "Was that when the flames of passion engulfed you, or did they wait until you two silently climbed the terminal?

The expressions of the assassin and the ranger surely involved someone's death, but he wasn't sure wether they were pondering brutal murder or suicide. They were, however, utterly and impossibly embarassed. Even Keram-Rei couldn't suppress a smile.

The look of astonishment on Screaming-Eagle's face, however, was priceless. "You two have seriously fallen in love?"

Any attempts to respond were cut short by a furious Panther exiting the door, her expression turning into a smirk as she gave a look at the crowd.

Jenkins quickly scrambled for her, nearly tripping over the steps. "Hey, you there! I have a message for you!" He called, regaining balance and standing a foot from her. "It's from Ambassador Crocker, very important." The soldier gave her a note, then dismissively saluted her. "Here you go."

As the boy ran off, the Courier unfolded the piece of paper and read, blank-faced. When she was done, she carefully hid it behind her breastplate, and looked at them all in an unimpressed way. "The NCR wants our help, and they're going to have it. Later."

"We acknowledge Mr. House wished for your services, too." The Keram-Rei said, raising his brow. "How did it go?"

"I politely told the manipulative bastard to fuck off." She growled, crackling her fingers and her neck in anger.

Both the mage and the battlemage sighed in relief. The sheer thought of them having to work for a shady figure like him was more than enough to disturb him.

"Nevertheless, I got the special suite." She announced, unnaturally calm. "I want you all to wait there while I'm at The Tops."

"I've had enough of this!" Eyes-Of-Silver roared, baring his teeth. "Why in Oblivion do you insist on going alone and risking your life in obvious traps?! Bring at least one of us along to cover you!"

The Courier eyed him for a moment, then she swiftly marched towards him and drew a pistol from her hip, pointing it at his snout, much to his disbelief. "It's a personal matter, Eyes-Of-Silver." She growled as she readied her weapon's hammer with her thumb, ready to pull the trigger, and then looked around. "I don't want anyone involved. Get inside, lizards. _Now._"

They all looked at each other in shock, then silently nodded and walked towards the entrance of the casino. The place didn't even amaze them in all its decaying glory, rows of slot machines and Blackjack tables, a long-abandoned bar and Securitrons everywhere, with Victor standing next to the elevator.

It began waving and moving towards them. "Howdy! How…"

"Silence, animunculus." The mage growled, her eyes as red as flames. "To the suite."

The robot, puzzled, waited a few seconds, then led them towards the elevator. It was far too small to fit three people, let alone six plus a Securitron, but there wasn't a single rant, not a whine, just a deafening silence. Everyone was boiling with anger for what Panther had dared to do.

The doors slid open after what seemed like an eternity.

* * *

><p>Eyes-Of-Silver punched the room's red wall, cracking it. <em>How could she point a gun at me?<em> He thought, growling in wrath as he punched it again. _I was just concerned, I just wanted her to be safer!_

"Enough!" The battlemage shuted, dragging him away and taking him to his armchair.

The other Dragonborn had all taken a seat, save for him. He'd been too angry to sit down, but he slowly calmed down under the thief's worried stare.

"She's let emotions take over her during a mission, a particularly dangerous one, too." Phyrkeetus said, grimacing. "It never goes well, _ever_."

"But why didn't she just say it? Why didn't she tell us she wanted to do this all by herself? Or why didn't she accept anyone covering her back outside?" Naeera said, tears in her eyes. "For a second, I almost thought she would… would…"

He squeezed her hand, looking into her eyes, and managed to keep her from crying.

"Stupid little bitch." Screaming-Eagle muttered, almost snarling. "How dare she threaten one of her friends at gunpoint? There are personal matters, and then there's blind revenge, the one she's perpetrating. This won't bring her any good."

"This shows she's capable of getting over anything just to reach her goals." Star-Of-The-Marshes growled, snorting in hatred. "If she doesn't trust us, I see no reason why we should trust her, either. Following her is utterly foolish, I refuse to stand by someone too blinded by her objectives and emotions."

"This saddens me, but I believe you are all right." Keram-Rei sighed, holding his head in his hands. "Something has clicked in her when we entered the Strip, and I can't quite wrap my mind around what happened lately. She wasn't like this earlier, you all know it."

"I trusted her." Eyes-Of-Silver managed to say, shaken. It was true: he'd trusted them all the moment he'd seen them, especially the Courier. He'd befriended them, he'd even had a talk with Panther about Naeera in the morning… _What in Oblivion has this Benny done to her? _He thought, refusing to imagine she'd just used them to get to New Vegas. _No, she was just too thrilled at the thought of revenge, that's it... She wasn't thinking clearly...  
><em>

Nobody dared to speak any further, the overwhelming silence threatening to crush them under its weight, nothing capable of distracting them from what had happened just a few minutes earlier. The warrior could tell most of the anger in the room had vanished, replaced by shock and fear. Tears were trickling down the girls' eyes, but they managed to hide it pretty well, not sniffling even once. Phyrkeetus had raised his cowl up over his nostrils, while Keram-Rei was just holding his horns in distress, glaring at the floor between his feet.

"We… we should talk to her when she gets back." The warrior proposed, nervously tapping his hands on the armchair. "We'll make her understand she's done something terrible, and perhaps we'll be able to make her think about it, and everything will be back to normal. She will understand, I'm sure she..."

The door slowly creaked open, and a dreadfully familiar boy walked in, his expression grim.

"What the fuck do you want from us now?" The battlemage snarled, but the boy just shook his head, giving everyone ominous looks.

"I came here to comunicate Jagdpanther's demise. Even I don't know how this happened." He announced, lowering his head and sighing heavily. "Courier Six is dead."

Realization dawned on them, it was like a cold blade had sunk deep into their hearts, lodging between the ribs. The warrior and the battlemage managed to somewhat keep it together, but the others just broke out in sobs, even the assassin.

Eyes-Of-Silver got to his feet, glaring at the boy, and exited the room. Keram-Rei followed him, not speaking a word.

"Where to, par-" The robot began, cheerful.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" He bellowed, throwing Victor aside and opening the elevator by himself, almost crushing the lowest button. The battlemage jumped inside, and the ride was insanely slow for a situation like that.

They strode towards the exit, almost taking the door off its hinges, and sprinted outside. The Strip was unusually empty, fuelling their terror as they opened the gate before them and found a large crowd gathered around one of the casino's entrance. Keram-Rei tried making his way through the mass of people to find out what lay behind and, while attempting to follow him, the warrior noticed a man sneaking away, the outline of a knife in his trousers' pocket.

He quickly reached for him, laying a large hand on his shoulder. "Going anywhere?" He growled, glaring at the murderer with cold eyes.

The man grinned. "I see you have more sense than that stupid whore, do you? Mighty Caesar's Mark extends upon her friends, too." He whispered, narrowing his eyes. "Do you wish to-"

Eyes-Of-Silver shattered his ribs with a single punch, then loomed over the mortally wounded man, rage burning through his veins. He grabbed his head with both hands, placed a foot on his shoulder, breaking it under the weight, and pulled as hard as he could. He could feel the tendons and muscles tensing and ripping as the man screamed in agony, the vertebrae slowly pulling apart, until it finally came off his neck.

The warrior stood with the head in his hands, then held it by the hair and looked for the battlemage. Keram was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she wasn't dead, maybe she was just wounded, maybe she was inside, maybe…

His heart sank when he spotted him.

The crowd was slowly making way for him as he carried Panther's lifeless body. Her helmet had fallen off, revealing her brown chestnut hair, her dark eyes which were never to open again. A horrible wound gashed on her throat, from ear to ear. The battlemage looked at him in despair, silently crying and shaking his head.

He just followed him, unable to speak nor do anything else.

Panther was dead.

The path to the Lucky 38 casino was endless, every step seemed to bring him closer to the grave. The whole city had fallen silent, and a group of NCR soldiers even accompanied them, not daring to look at the Courier's corpse. The troopers left them as they entered the building. This time not even Victor managed to speak, only bringing them to the special suite she'd been given. The whirring of the elevator was the only sound they heard, along with the blood drops from the Legion bastard's head and the tears of the battlemage falling on the Courier's chestplate.

The doors slid open, and the two entered the room in which they were previosly arguing about how untrustworthy she was, how she'd gone crazy, how she'd dared pointing a gun at his snout, how she didn't deserve their presence…

When they saw her, silence fell upon the room. The Writer was still there, sadly eyeing Panther's body and covering his face. The six Dragonborn then just cried, mourning her as Keram-Rei delicately laid her on a bed, placing her hands together. Sobs and eventual howls of grief were the only sounds that could be heard, the mysterious boy just standing next to the door, his eyes closed as he shook his head.

The battlemage sprung up, clenching his fists and pinning the Writer to the wall, growling. "This is all your fault!" He roared, baring his teeth as tears kept falling down his cheeks.

"I… This wasn't supposed to happen…" The other managed to say, closing his eyes. "Alerio wasn't supposed to be armed, I cannot change these little crucial details, I have no idea what caused this." He continued, sincerely saddened.

"I don't believe you!" Keram-Rei snarled, but then slowly loosened his grip, falling to his knees and burying his face in his hands. "I don't believe you…"

"I cannot do anything to bring her back." The boy announced, sclosing his eyes and sighing. "I can only let you continue what she was supposed to do, first of all exiting the Mojave Wasteland, but it's up to you to actually-"

"Do it." Eyes-Of-Silver growled, determined, wiping his tears. "We'll do it for her."

The Writer nodded, materializing a platinum casino chip in his hand and giving it to Keram-Rei. Shortly after, everybody's Pip-Boys rang with notifications. Four new signals had appeared on their maps, four new areas which brought to unknown lands and foes, four new tasks they'd stolen from her.

"Get away from New Vegas as quickly as you can, I'll be in touch when you'll have to come back to the Mojave." He said, shaking his head in sorrow. "I… I will think about her. You'll find dozens of books inside your satchels, along with a spell tome made to instantly extract their knowledge. I matched them to your personality and skills, you're going to need them if you want to survive and know more about this world."

The battlemage slowly got up to his feet, looking into the boy's eyes. "Thank you." He whispered.

The other grimaced. "It doesn't matter, just go. Look for the Northern Passage, reach New Canaan with the Happy Trails Caravan." He raised his head to look at the four. "I'll tell you what to do once you've finished in Utah."

They gave one last look at Panther's body, whispering their goodbyes, then stormed towards the elevator, ready to leave New Vegas, but not before Eyes-Of-Silver smashed Alerio's cursed head on the floor.

* * *

><p>I looked at Jagdpanther's lifeless corpse in anger. Why did that accursed frumentarius carry a knife with him? Why were his reflexes faster than hers? What led him to attack her? I didn't know, but something was wrong. Courier Six wasn't supposed to die, at least not like this.<p>

I sighed and shook my head, snapping my fingers and making her body disappear. She was now resting in a monumental tomb just outside of Camp McCarran, where anyone would've been able to pay their respects to her, to the great woman she never was, to the Courier who never conquered and liberated Flagstaff, who never killed Caesar nor toppled his reign of terror, to the never-appointed Colonel, to the saviour of the Mojave who never came to be. It was insane, and I couldn't do anything but help the six Dragonborn to follow her steps, maybe plucking the right strings and making their way easier.

I, however, had greater plans for them.  
><em><br>No need to hurry, T. _I thought, sighing. _Plenty of time for them to unfold. I didn't want her to get involved in this, though…_

* * *

><p>As they set foot outside of the Lucky 38, the Securitrons began shooting at them while communicating their hostility.<p>

The assassin growled in rage. Not only had their friend died, murdered by Caesar's scum, but now House's puppets wanted to kill them, too?

He charged lightnings in both hands. "Come and get it!" He shouted as he unleashed a storm upon the robots, which either exploded or fell to the ground, convulsing, their screens shattering on the asphalt.

"Move it, people!" He shouted, summoning Arvak and mounting it as they followed his example. "We're getting out of here!"

Screaming-Eagle swiftly destroyed the gates with her fire, and the six rode through the melting metal and into the streets of Freeside, the sound of more security robots becoming clearer behind them. They passed through the town in a few instants, the inhabitants' eyes wide as they stared at them, and noticed the Kings had opened the gates leading outside of Freeside, weapons at ready to keep the Securitrons back and ensure their escape.

"Thank you!" Phyrkeetus exclaimed as they rode into the Mojave Wasteland, outside of that cursed city and into the abandoned ruins. They took various detours around the walls to head North, slashing at the occasional stranded Fiend. Under the midday sun, the only sound breaking the air being their horses' hooves against the asphalt, they finally reached for the Northern Mojave, stopping at a crumbling farm.

It was, however, far from being deserted, given the four screaming maniacs which sprinted towards them, wielding fire axes and sledgehammers. They stopped screaming when four bolts pierced their throats in rapid succession, putting an end to their certainly miserable and wicked life.

When the six entered the burned-down remains of the barn, they had time to think, and all of them immediately thought about Panther. The assassin was sure, because he did, and he had exchanged just two or three phrases with her. Appearently, it was enough for his tears to stream down his eyes, much like the rest of them, all grieving at the loss of the friend they'd gotten to know for no more than a couple of days.

* * *

><p>Keram-Rei was doing his best not curl up on the ground and sob desperately. She had been the one who'd given them a purpose, something to fight for, the hope for a new and righteous Mojave, with people looking up to them and loving them as they were loved in Skyrim. She had found them, and had helped them greatly to know everything about the barren wasteland, playing a small role in defusing the situation with Major Dhatri, and a major role in ensuring the cooperation between Freeside and the NCR, and who knew what she'd done before Boulder City. She was no different than them: someone fighting for what was right, and definitely the only one who could make things right.<p>

And now she was gone.

He closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath, and stood before his friends. _I've never been good at speeches, but I'm damn sure going to try._ The battlemage thought, looking at the grief of his companions, almost faltering at how his beloved Eagle was crying in pure despair.

He suddenly stiffened and straightened up. _No, I'm going to try, they need someone to help them, to motivate them, to… lead them. _He thought, grimacing.

"Today is a grim day." Keram-Rei began, gaining their attention. "We have lost our first true friend, the first person who had never exploited any of us, the first person who openly spoke with us. Although we may have known her for no more than a few days, we've seen what she was capable of, how she tagged along to help Freeside, how she solved everything with diplomacy, using weapons only as a last resort, when everything else had failed."

None of them was sobbing anymore, perhaps they were silently crying, but the only sound was that of his own voice.

"She had begun working to improve the Mojave far before she'd met us, if the news reports on the various radios are anything to go by." The battlemage continued, encouraged by the others' hopeful expressions. "That bastard Alerio might have killed her, but her spirit still lives on in our hearts or, who knows, maybe she's chanting in Sovngarde right now, putting a good word for us as we speak. But the only sure thing is that crying won't bring her back. We need to pick up the pieces, and cleanse this wasteland from all the filth, corruption and depravity which have befallen it over the centuries, oppressing its fair dwellers and crushing them under the foul weight of the wicked."

His fellow Dragonborns' nods and determination fuelled him to go on.

"Brothers and sisters, we will annihilate each and every perpetrator of this evil, we shall make no prisoners! Caesar will fall, and its pathetic and brutal empire will follow him into the pits of Oblivion!" He snarled, baring his teeth with vehemence. "We will tear to shreds that coward House and hang his corpse outside of his damned casino for everyone to see! We will ensure the Mojave under the rule of the NCR, bringing prosperity to the poor, civilization to the savages and justice to the criminals!"

All the six let out a war cry as Keram-Rei stood stern, proud, his gaze upon his comrades.


	10. Precious Jerusalem

**AUTHOR'S NOTE  
>I do NOT own Fallout: New Vegas nor The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, which belong to Bethesda Softworks, nor the songs I may quote during this story, which belong to... Quite a lot of etiquettes, actually. If I did, I doubt I'd ever think about writing something like this.<br>So, here we are, finally taking our first steps into the DLCs as the story in the Mojave starts becoming a little different, a little wilder. I was thinking about... Nah, what kind of author would I be if I told you? Anyway, I'm always trying to improve, maybe this chapter is just a tad bit better-written (can you even say that?) than the others, or at least I hope so. I've always tried to keep everything detailed, not skipping any time or movement except for those obvious 'Fast Travel' moments, but describing fourteen days of travel would've made me write two or three chapters of _absolute nothing_ and bad dialogues, so I thought about not writing them and directly dropping them off into New Canaan. For anyone wondering, yes, I will cover all the DLCs. "First here, then there! Make up your mind already!"  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>Risin' up from the heart of the desert,<br>Risin' up for Jerusalem!  
>Risin' up from the heat of the desert,<br>Headin' out for Jerusalem!_

**Blind Guardian - Precious Jerusalem**

* * *

><p>Rocks, shrubs and scorching sand were their only sight for a good five minutes, under the hot and definitely useless shadows of the northern hills. Why in Oblivion had the Happy Trails Caravan decided to hide nearby, it was beyond Keram-Rei. One thing he knew, though, was that he was part of the six most powerful beings to ever walk the dead planet, and he was leading them, so the caravan had nothing to fear during the voyage. <em>Our enemies don't stand a chance.<em> He thought, confident, as he marched through the unforgiving winds.

"There, I see a path between the boulders." Eyes-Of-Silver announced as he pointed ahead, his voice the usual low growl, his eyes sharp like those of an eagle. "Judging by our map, it should be the caravan's hideout."

The battlemage nodded in acknowledgement, then kept walking ahead under the burning sun. It was burning particularly bright that day, but it was merely a candle compared to their wrath towards the Legion, their urge to annihilate anyone vaguely responsible for killing Panther, their sheer power and might waiting to be unleashed upon their enemies.

They soon reached the small path, as the warrior had warned them, and climbed it in no time. There before them laid a cave, small, hidden away from the prying eyes of the radioactive beasts. He didn't hesitate a moment and entered, followed by his friends and his lover.

A few surprised yelps and the click of various guns greeted them, wielded by nervous and sweating guards in black leather armor.

Behind him, Phyrkeetus snorted with laughter. "For Akatosh's sake, how can you not have heard about us?" He said, then pointed at a man in a blue and yellow jumpsuit. "That idiot has a Pip-Boy, hasn't he? Or is he too stupid to listen to Radio New Vegas?"

Keram-Rei took a step forward, ignoring the assassin. "Fear not, we aren't here to harm you, we've been told you wanted to reach New Canaan, and we're here to help you." He reassured, earning various sighs of relief. "Who is the leader of this caravan?"

A balding man with a goatee and dark skin raised a hand, speechless. He wore a light shirt, blue overalls, and a pair of goggles around his neck.

"Good, then I'm going to have a word with you." The battlemage said, nodding slightly, then turned towards his party. "Feel free to get acquainted with the rest of the group, we're going to share a long journey, after all."

That said, they scattered to talk to the various people, and he reached for the caravan master. "I know our presence here is startling, maybe even disturbing, but your radio transmission was extremely tempting." He explained the man. "Besides, things are pretty rough in New Vegas, so we wanted to get out of the Mojave for a while."

"That's just great, but I mean, I was expecting somebody else with a working Pip-Boy…" The other replied, nervous. "No offense."

"None taken, we Argonians aren't exactly a common sight on this dead and withered world." He said, shrugging, then reached out to shake his hand. "I am Keram-Rei, honoured to meet you."

The other shook his hand. "Name's Jed Masterson."

"What are we exactly going to do?" Keram-Rei asked, raising his brow. "We've never been in the area, in fact we're new to the Mojave."

"The job is simple: help us get this caravan into Zion and find New Canaan." Jed answered, a little more accustomed with him. "The pay is 25 caps per day, half up front, half on return. You'll get a bonus if we make it into Zion, plus another bonus if we reach New Canaan. Oh, one more thing." He looked into his eyes, serious. "Don't mention the name Joshua Graham to anyone. _Anyone_. Just don't. It makes the New Canaanites powerful uncomfortable, and it scares the britches off the tribals. Don't talk about the Burned Man either, while you're at it. Trust me, it's for your own good." The man advised, although it was something between a plea and an order

"None of us will mention either of them." Keram-Rei said, nodding. "I understand we're heading into a fairly unknown place, what can you tell me about the area?"

"Well, I ain't never been inside, myself." Masterson admitted, scratching his neck. "Did some trading with the New Canaanites from their mission there, but that was all on the outskirts. All the old ways in and out were destroyed after the War, but we got ourselves the location of a passage the New Canaanites use: that's our way in." The man gestured at the Argonians, then at the man in the jumpsuit, who was nervously talking with Eagle, flinching at her fierce snarls. "That's why I wanted someone with a Pip-Boy on the caravan. The map'll be helpful for checking the topography, keeping us on the trail."

A frightened scream caught their attention, and the battlemage immediately turned to take care of any possible threat, sword in hand. When he noticed the reason, however, he tried hard not to laugh.

The man in the jumpsuit was holding his hands up, a look of absolute terror on his face, while Screaming-Eagle had bared her teeth, her eyes narrowed, and was pressing a dagger at the man's groin. "Get lost!" She hissed, furious, and he fled in an instant, tripping over several times as he ran.

He bursted out laughing as she stormed towards Jed Masterson, sparks rippling across her arms. "His Pip-Boy didn't work, and I am certain this is a good riddance for the travel." She announced, gritting her teeth in anger. "Not to mention what he proposed..."

"Good thing you came along." Jed muttered, impressed, as he turned to him. "Now that Ricky's skedaddled, yours is the only Pip-Boy we got."

The battlemage suddenly stopped laughing, menacingly narrowing his eyes. "Is?"

"Well, we only got room for one more on this expedition." The caravan master said, almost regretting it at Keram's look. "You'll have to leave your friends behind."

"Oh, but I'm afraid not bringing all of us around will make the travel extremely unpleasant, Mr. Masterson." Eyes-Of-Silver growled behind them, innocent. "Our Keram here is an excellent fighter and leader, but he isn't omnipotent. Somebody might ambush you, maybe pointing straight at him to dispatch the rest of you faster." The warrior casually crackled his fingers, blank-faced. "With six of us, though, your caravan will be much safer."

"On the other hand …" Jed quickly added, sweating. "On the other hand, I think some more security won't do any harm."

Eyes-Of-Silver sneered. "I'm glad you've come to your senses."

As Masterson slowly calmed down, the battlemage clapped his hands. "Well, I believe we are ready to go, aren't we?" He said, grinning.

"Are you now?" The other responded, crossing his arms. "You know we ain't coming back for a good long while now, right? And you know about the weight limit? I don't want no-"

"We travel light, we've got all we need in our satchels." The mage interrupted him, sighing. "We're ready."

"Well, all right then, let's get moving." The caravan master announced to the others, who straightened up and readied their weapons. "We've got a long road ahead of us…"

* * *

><p>Four days had already passed, and still no sign of Zion.<p>

Keram-Rei sat in front of the fire against the cold night sky, the mercenaries either on patrol or guarding the camp. This left him, the other Argonians, and Jed Masterson. They all got to know each other better during these four days, and everything was working better and faster: the Argonians' sense of direction and magic mixed with the Happy Trails mercs' advanced weapons and tactics easily fended off any raiders they came across.

"The paths we're following are slow going, so you might as well keep your ears open and listen to what old Jed has to say." Masterson began, solemn, and they all eagerly turned towards him.

"Oh, I love stories!" The thief piped up, excited.

Jed smiled, sitting up more comfortably. "A few decades back, folks in the NCR started to hear about a community in northern Utah called New Canaan. Didn't know much about them, except that they were religious folks. Sent out missionaries to talk to the tribes. We've seen our share of cults, but the New Canaanites, they were honest traders. Good fighters, too. Raiders wouldn't tangle with 'em. But then the Legion appeared in Arizona. I reckon you know all about them."

A collective angered growl was his answer.

The old man grinned. "Turns out Caesar's warchief, the Malpais Legate, was a New Canaanite. Joshua Graham. Legend goes than Graham was the meanest, toughest son of a bitch in the whole damn Legion. The New Canaanites wouldn't talk about him. They were ashamed. Guess I can't blame 'em." He shook his head. "Well at Hoover Dam, the Malpais Legate finally met his match. Hanlon and Oliver kicked his New Canaanite butt right back over the river. Caesar had to make an example for the others, to show them that even at the highest level, failure wouldn't be tolerated. He had Graham covered in pitch, lit on fire, and thrown into the Grand Canyon."

Keram-Rei grimaced. _To set on fire his own general? _He thought, horrified. He'd always treated the legionnaires under his command with respect, even after a defeat, _especially_ after a defeat_. _How could've the man had sane followers, he had no idea._  
><em>

"People say he didn't even scream on the way down." Jed continued. "Not long after, some of the slaves and tribals started to talk. Said Graham wasn't dead. Shouldn't have been any surprise. All this talk bothered Caesar, so he forbade anyone from speaking his name. Wanted to erase Joshua Graham from history. He got his wish, Joshua Graham disappeared." He grinned, chuckling softly. "And in his place came legends of the Burned Man walking the wastes."

He raised his eyes, and looked at the six of them. "Probably just a tribal ghost story. But New Canaan's been silent for a long time. Maybe it's a coincidence. Maybe the Malpais Legate is dead. Or maybe Joshua Graham did find his way out of that canyon and finally found his way back home." He said, leaving all of them filled with curiosity and leaving Naeera with a lot of questions.

"But, Jed, why didn't Caesar want to hear about him?" She asked, not unlike a little girl, before going on and not letting him continue. "And how did Graham survive the fall? Why are the tribals so scared, if most tribes join the Legion? Do you think New Canaan is connected with this, or..."

Jed suddenly got to his feet, stretching. "Well, we'd better go to bed now." He said, yawning. "Tomorrow's gonna be a long day."

With that, the old man entered his tent, leaving the Argonians by the fire, the thief huffing in annoyance.

The battlemage scratched his chin, thoughtful. "This Graham sure sounded like a horrible man, but now he can't certainly see eye-to-eye with Caesar."

The ranger crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes on him. "What do you mean?"

"We should at least listen to what he has to say, if we manage to find him." Keram-Rei announced, shrugging. "Who knows, maybe he can help us."

"That is completely out of question." She retorted, snorting in anger. "The sheer pain of being set on fire must've made him insane, who knows what he may be up to. Not to mention the fact he was part of the Legion!"

"We have to try!" He insisted, clenching his fists.

"Keram, she's right, people never really change." Screaming-Eagle said, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"I beg to differ." The assassin said, chuckling without any humor. "Who knows, maybe he's really changed, after all."

"That's different, Phyrkeetus." Naeera retorted, scowling at him.

"That's the exact same thing!" The battlemage said, amazed by how blind the three of them were. "Don't you understand? We might find a new ally, a man who's possibly changed his whole life, and make sure Caesar's forces are crippled in the North!"

"That's ridiculous, he'll just wage war on both the NCR and the Legion!" The ranger exclaimed, furious.

"Has anyone read the books we've been given?" Eyes-Of-Silver said, trying to defuse the situation and earning everyone's attention. They all exchanged puzzled looks, then Keram-Rei finally remembered what he was talking about.

"I believe now might be a good time to do this." The warrior contined, taking a large bag from his satchel. He did the same, and found an even bigger one, stuffed with all sorts of books, an Alteration spell tome on top. The six Dragonborns opened their tomes at the same time, and Keram-Rei felt the familiar and pleasant little sparks trickling all around him as he gained the knowledge of a new spell and the book faded away. _It's been a long, long time since I last felt this… _He thought, smiling. He'd almost forgotten the feeling.

The battlemage laid a hand upon the pile of books, drew a small circle with his index finger, just like the tome instructed, and clenched his fist.

Normally, ripping knowledge from a sentient mind was incredibly painful, given the amount of thoughts, memories and ideas ammassed inside a sentient being's brain, but taking it from even a couple of hundred of books was surprisingly painless, probably because paper can't think nor have memories. Now they knew everything about Earth's history, literature, arts, culture, weapons, vehicles, mathematics, the various branches of science… Although their new knowledge of biology puzzled him, and probably the others, too.

_Why does it say only mammals have breasts?_

* * *

><p>Finally, <em>finally<em>, after ten days, countless canyons and a couple of other surprising revelations, the caravan had finally reached Utah. Keram-Rei sighed in relief under the morning sun, a little more forgiving than the one shining over the Mojave.

"All right, people!" Jed Masterson cheered up. "Been a long couple weeks, but here we are. Zion. I know your feet hurt, I know you're tired, but I need everyone's minds on the trail ahead…"

"Ain't the trail ahead worries me, Jed." Stella, the head of the mercenaries, interrupted him, a grim look on her face. "Those descents we made, through that slot canyon back up there? Ain't no way we're getting back out the way we come. And then what?"

"Goddamnit Stella, heard you the first time, and the fifteenth, too." Jed replied, chuckling. "The New Canaanites will know a way. And if they don't, we got the maps on our friends' Pip-Boys over there." He clapped his hands, turning towards the Argonians. "Enough lollygagging! Get moving and keep an eye out for tribals!"

The battlemage took the lead of his group, standing between the caravan master and the guards, a hand on the hilt of his sword, just for safety.

"Sorry to bother you with reality, ol' Jed." Stella muttered, annoyed. "Who cares if we can't get back out the way we come? That's not a problem."

Everyone chuckled at the comments, but the Dragonborns tensed immediately after.

"Someone's waiting us." The ranger whispered, reaching for her bow and fuelling their worries. "Ambush, up ahead. I thought they were just animals."

Her words were confirmed by an head exploding at her side, one of the merc's brains and bone shreds hitting the ground with a wet sound.

"EVERYONE, TAKE COVER!" Keram-Rei shouted, leaping behind a rock as bullets hissed all around them. He couldn't take his head up and look at their attackers, since someone was shooting right at his boulder to pin him down, but he was certain the tribals were holding up in the hills. His friends had managed to take cover, and Eagle had jumped at his side, but the rest of the guards had stubbornly decided to fight on open ground, and were paying the price with their lives, a corpse falling to the ground every two or three seconds.

"They're out of range, and I can't move any closer!" Eyes-Of-Silver exclaimed, tapping his temple. He was stuck behind a boulder, alone, and nobody could get to him and use a Dragonhide spell for his head. _Why does he have to have so many horns…_ The battlemage thought, angry, as his eyes darted around. Phyrkeetus was using a couple of the corpses as temporary cover, while Naeera and Star-Of-The-Marshes were pinned under some large logs. The worst part was the only magic users couldn't help them, and they were stuck together.

"Alright, I'm taking care of this." Keram-Rei snarled, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "TIID KLO UL!"

The sands of time stopped flowing around him as he calmly surveyed the area. Everyone was dead, even Stella and Jed, several bullets piercing their bodies. There were at least ten ambushers split in two parties, each on two different cliffs, covered by bushes and trees. He almost charged a fireball, but saw a glimpse of shining metal and thought better of it.

The battlemage walked towards the pump-action grenade launcher and took it from the mercenary's cold hands. _China Lake, wasn't it?_ He thought, grinning, and carefully aimed four shots, two rounds for every group of tribals. The grenades gracefully arced towards their targets as he ducked back behind cover, a wild grin still on his face. When he sat back at Eagle's side, the roar of the explosions shook the ground, and an arm landed at his side, torn from its screaming owner.

"There, done." He announced, sighing and massaging his temples. That shout always had bad side-effects on him, mostly nausea or headaches.

"Fuck, everyone's dead!" Phyrkeetus shouted, angrily getting to his feet and gathering the group. Nobody of his group had been harmed, the battlemage noticed, but now they had no idea what to do. They were just supposed to defend the caravan, and had utterly failed.

"And we can't come back." Eyes-Of-Silver continued, suspiciously looking around the valley.

Seeing no other way out, they slowly passed a dangerously unstable bridge, one by one, until Star-Of-The-Marshes stopped them, pointing at a higher cliff. A savage was aiming his SMG at them, but soon another one cut his throat and threw his body away. They cautiously walked towards him, eyeing his every movement. He was young, although his various tattoos made him look much older, and wore ragged, tribal pieces of armor, along with a necklace and a feathered baseball cap.

"Hoi! White Legs don't leave survivors often." He spoke in a peculiar accent, amazed and happy. "You're some kind of lucky, let me tell you. Those scary masks make you look like evil spirits, they didn't stand a chance."

They looked at each other, then Keram-Rei sighed. "We aren't wearing any masks, kid, we just aren't human. We're Argonians."

Instead of falling off the rock he was perched on, he looked even more excited than before. "You came from outside, didn't you?" He asked in pure awe. "From the civilized lands? Wow… Joshua will want to hear about this."

"Joshua?" The warrior asked, narrowing his eyes. "That Joshua?"

"Joshua Graham, he leads our tribe." The tribal said,nodding energically. "Thanks to him, the Dead Horses are strong, and safe from our enemies. He'll want to talk to anyone coming up from southways. Guess that means just your group, now. Come, I can take you to him."

Ignoring the glares coming from the three females, he took a step forward. "We are ready to follow you."

The boy mumbled with something incomprehensible, nodding. "We head East, then. Joshua is at our tribe's camp in the Eastern Virgin."

They followed him around the cliff, then they all walked along the river. It was a rocky desert, but plants actually managed to live there and he definitely thought it _was_ cooler than the Mojave, not to talk about the sound of a coursing river below them. He could tell everyone was itching for a swim. They were Argonians, after all.

Tribal paintings ran all along the canyon walls, depicting either common objects, hands, dancing men or people with root-like limbs. _There used to be some sort of tribe drawing similar things, back in Black Marsh…_ He thought, raising his brow at the primitive sight in front of him.

A blood-chilling roar and the headless corpse of a lizard-like creature made them stop at once.

"Freeze! Don't move a muscle!" The boy whispered. "Yao Guai."

The enormous mutated bear stood on its hind legs, looking at them, but was about to go away, until a deep chuckle and a crackle of fingers sounded from inside their group. The battlemage sighed, closing his eyes in exhasperation. _Here he goes again_

"COME ON!" Eyes-Of-Silver snarled, taking the beast by surprise as he charged it, bare-handed. He collided with the bear with an armored fist to its jaw, which only seemed to anger it even more. It stood once again, charging a blow which would've certainly broken the warrior's neck, but missed him as he rolled to the monster's side and broke its ribs with a well-placed kick. The Yao Guai roared in pain, to which Eyes-Of-Silver replied with a furious bellow and a flurry of punches to its enormous paws and chest, breaking them with his brute force and making the beast fall down and let out laments of agony, laying limp but clearly conscious upon a large boulder. The warrior climbed up on its belly, laughing feverishly, and ultimately broke the bear's neck with his hands.

The huge Argonian roared in triumph, then jumped down and reached for them, that mad grin still on his face. "I was in dire need of a fight like that." He growled, clearly satisfied, and laughed.

The battlemage cocked his head slightly, just to catch a glimpse of Naeera's look. _Hope you're ready for a fight you can't win, big guy._ He thought, hardly suppressing a grin at the thief's hisses.

"ARE YOU _INSANE_?!" She shrieked, furious, charging the warrior and slapping him. It couldn't possibly hurt him, but the surprise was certainly much more intense and overwhelming. And there she was again, screaming unintelligible curses and words of concern at Eyes-Of-Silver for being incredibly stupid and reckless, how those had been the worst two minutes of her life, how he couldn't keep on doing similar things, and the list went on and on. Keram-Rei couldn't actually make out a word of it, given the curious accent she spoke in when extremely stressed, every so often switching between Jel and English. The first time something similar had happened during the journey, though, the speech was pretty clear, and he figured it was probably the same thing over again. She sounded no different than his mother.

Which meant he and the others were barely keeping from rolling on the floor laughing, and the look of extreme and utter puzzlement on the tribal's face surely wasn't helping in any way, nor did the warrior's apologetic nods and gestures.

"He killed a Yao Guai, and she isn't happy?" The boy asked, doubtful.

The assassin patted a hand on his shoulder, chuckling. "You'll get used to it, trust me."

Eyes-Of-Silver and Naeera silently blended with the group again, the thief viciously baring her teeth, the warrior keeping his head low. _And I was having a little fun…_ The battlemage thought, hiding his disappointment.

"Where to?" Star-Of-The-Marshes asked, trying to distract them and to avoid any further arguments. "We don't have any actual map, and we aren't locals."

The tribal nodded. "You can take the part north here, or head east over the ridge." He said, pointing at the two possible routes. "There's a nice view from the top of that cliff, if you want a look."

The battlemage kept his sword in hand, considering the two options. "Well, '_Winds are changing, head on north!_'" He sang, grinning, and took the lead.

The way had been mostly quiet, except for the river below them and for the ranger talking with the boy, who told them where to go every once in a while, what path to pick, what places to circle, what logs to search. From the few things he'd managed to eavesdrop, he was on his way to be some sort hunter, and his name was Follows-Chalk. _Definitely better names than those cursed Fiends._ He thought, hiding a smile. He also found it incredibly similar to Argonian names and, unlike Fiend ones, it actually felt like it was more in tune with the nature, or traditions. _Just like us._

They finally reached an old road in mildly better conditions than those back in the Mojave, but still in pretty bad shape. Not to mention the countless heads at either side of the asphalt path, all impaled on spears or pitchforks.

"That's brutal." Phyrkeetus muttered, impressed.

"Shamans say our enemies' souls are trapped in them, but Joshua says it shows we're serious about fighting White Legs." Follows-Chalk explained. These people were much more tribal than what they'd thought, but it wasn't too different from what they'd done with the Stormcloak generals' heads, after all.

The walk silently continued, the cold eyes of the White Legs silently watching them as they marched, the wind howling through the rocks and cliffs all around them. After a little, a booth stood at the edge of the road, a small path bringing downwards. There was a strange mark on the cabin's wall, a white handprint over red paint.

"See those handprints?" The tribal began, gaining their interest. "Dead Horses and Sorrows mark them on taboo places, places from Back When." He snorted skeptically. "Good thing for you I don't buy into that stuff."

The battlemage nodded, then walked up to the small path, attracted by a strangely familiar noise, and looked over the ledge.

He smiled.

There was water, _fresh_ water, not radioactive and, although it looked like reached their thighs for the most part, there were deeper spots, perfect for a swim. The others seemed to notice it, too, and they quickly stood before him and Eagle. It took him a second to realize, then he cast waterproof spells on Phyrkeetus and Eyes-Of-Silver, putting extra care with the grenade MG and his ammo, finally casting one on himself afterwards. They dived at the same time.  
><em><br>Beautiful._

For the first time in almost three weeks, he felt the gentle brush of the water on his scales, longing for clean water, for real water to wash with. Magic showers were fine, but it was nothing compared to a real bath and a swim. His fellow Dragonborns were probably as enthusiastic as he was, given the nightmare the desert was for an Argonian. No rivers, no lakes, no ponds to jump into... And there they were, finally with a place to swim!

After what might've been ten minutes or an hour, though, he remembered about Follows-Chalk and the man they were going to see. When the boy noticed his armor was perfectly dry, his eyes widened. "That was…" He blinked a few times, uncertain if to continue or not. "Magic?"

Keram-Rei smiled, nodding. "Yes, it was magic. I know far more... _awesome_ magic, though."

The tribal looked at him expectantly, and he didn't disappoint him. The battlemage clenched his fist, then unleashed a fireball on a nearby cliff. The explosion shook the ground, shrapnel and molten rocks falling from the hillside crater he'd just created. He grinned, causing Follows-Chalk to immediately fall silent, just as the rest of the group emerged to have a look at what had just happened. Screaming-Eagle walked up to him, visibly annoyed, and stomped his foot with an immense force, augmented by magic for sure. He clenched his jaw, squeezed his eyes shut, and cast a healing spell when she was done, eventually getting closer to the tribal boy.

"She's better at magic than I am." The battlemage whispered to Follows-Chalk, who just nodded in awe. The mage must've had noticed it, since he heard her giggling.

In the meantime, the assassin had taken the lead, and he soon followed him, but not before he'd had a look at the enormous paintings which covered the entire canyon. There was a man covered in bandages, a police bulletproof vest over his chest, his eyes bleeding, and he was pointing in front of himslef. There were men and women dancing, then sideways corpses before them, blood flowing down. _Victories against other tribes, perhaps?_ He thought, fascinanted, but then an ungodly pain engulfed his calf, and he whimpered.

Keram-Rei looked down, almost snarling, and noticed the rusting bear trap around his leg. He opened it with his bare hands, limped to a rock to sit on, and healed his wound, adding a cure disease spell just to be sure. Tetanus was always nasty, Argonian blood or not.

When he looked up, he noticed Phyrkeetus covering his face, Star-Of-The-Marshes shouting at him. He growled softly. _Of course, master thieves and assassins are said to be extremely light-footed._ He thought, sighing. _They never set off traps, not even by stepping on them._

Eyes-Of-Silver then leaded them through the creek, gesturing for them to circle around traps whenever he spotted them. It turned out the place was filled with bear traps, and only either a man with a very good eyesight or a native could safely travel back and forth to the camp. They were really defensive people, the battlemage noticed. How far were these White Legs capable of pushing them?

Then, after a tight slope, they reached the camp, dozens of makeshift tents inhabited by tribesmen and tribeswomen with shaved heads, their clothes rough pelts adorned with white and red feathers, horsehead-shaped clubs decorated with bullet casings dangling at their hips, tattoos covering their skin. The entire tribe seemed to jump at once when they saw them, but the sight of Follows-Chalk calmed them down, or at least it looked so. The whole camp was built around a huge cave, which stood in the middle of the canyon, paintings all around.

"Here we are." The boy finally spoke, although there still was amazement in his voice. "Joshua's just ahead there, in the Angel cave."

"I'm going to go and meet Graham, you wait here." Keram-Rei announced, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned, and saw a concerned Screaming-Eagle looking into his eyes.

"Just be careful." She said, briefly kissing him. "This guy was a Legate in Caesar's Legion, watch out. Stupid spellsword." She added, a faint smile on her face.

He grinned at how she'd called him. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

The battlemage kissed her back, then marched into the cave, followed by the gazes of hundreds of tribals, men, women and children. He finally entered the grotto, only to be greeted by a woman shouting at him in her native language and waving her spear at him, the only comprehensible word being 'Joshua Graham'. The tongue was of, from what he'd learnt from those books, Germanic origin, a mix of English and… German, perhaps, though he wasn't really sure. Maybe, and just maybe…

"I, uhm, I'm... looking for Joshua Graham, yes." He finally said, and the woman looked extremely surprised by his response. _Bingo._

"You know our tongue." She replied in English. "Smart _aidexe owslander_." _Yes, definitely German._ He thought, a little annoyed by the fact he'd been called a 'lizard outlander'.

"Joshua in high place of cave." The tribeswoman continued, gesturing widely as she spoke in a terrible English. "You show him respect, _utman_! Joshua is greatest warrior. You show him no respect, he show you thunder and fire!"

He was a little uncertain at 'utman', but answered nonetheless. "Fear not, I have no intention of being disrespectful towards him. I come to talk."

"You smart for _owslander_." She said, grunting in approval and letting him past the guard point. The turns were small and tight, the occasional cave mushroom glowing here and there, but he reached an opening without difficulties. There was a man sitting at a table, bandaged from head to toe, wearing an ancient police vest, white shirt and dark trousers, and he was cleaning and examining stacks of pistols in front of him.

"We should have given you a better welcome on your first visit to Zion, but from what I hear, the White Legs beat us to it." Joshua Graham said, not even looking at him as he grabbed another gun. "White Legs seem to be the only visitors we have these days, and I wouldn't have expected anyone from the Mojave to come looking for us. And you're a…"

When the man raised his eyes, he stopped talking in surprise. The battlemage painfully understood whom he was expecting.

"You were looking for another person, I believe. She…" Keram-Rei said, doing his best to keep his voice from faltering. He sucked in a deep breath. "She died in New Vegas, we're her friends. We've been attacked by Mr. House's forces afterwards, and we could only run away from the Strip, wait for things to calm down and follow other trails outside of the Mojave."

Joshua considered his words, eyeing him suspiciously. "There are more of you here?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

"We're a total of six on the whole planet, and the rest is waiting outside." He replied, sighing. "We are not from this world, as you may have noticed, dragged here against our own will. It's a long story, but now we're looking forward to come back home. Well, actually, Nevada isn't our home. And we want to come back to our real home" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Gods, this is fucked up…"

The Burned Man pondered his words. "I don't know if you were close to the other members of your group, but you have my sympathy." He finally said, solemn. "I pray for the safety of all good people who come to Zion, even Gentiles, but we can't expect God to do all the work."  
><em><br>Monotheistic religion, like the Skaal. _The battlemage thought. _There was something about Earth's religions in those books, especially monotheistic ones. This man should be… Christian, yes._ The idea of a man like Joshua Graham or, in general, anyone who's lived through a war like that believing in something with so scarce information… Keram-Rei admired him. _Believing in something widely proved as the Divines is hard enough after what we've seen, but this religion here is pretty vague and contradictory. It either takes an impressive amount of faith to embrace this, or an impressive amount of ignorance._ He looked at Graham, his eyes narrowed in thought. _In this case, faith. It's changed him, if he's leading a tribe and keeping it safe.._

He finally noticed he'd been staring at the Burned Man the whole time, so he shook his head in embarassment. "Sorry, I was just thinking. Anyway, we've come here with the Happy Trails Caravan Company, looking for New Canaan."

"Happy Trails." Joshua repeated, sad. "I remember, they were good friends. I have bad news for your employers. New Canaan was destroyed, its citizens scattered. All because of the White Legs." He snorted. "And Caesar, of course. The White Legs want to join the Legion. Caesar's rite of passage is the destruction of the New Canaanites, almost assuredly because of me."

The battlemage looked at him, hopeful.

"The good news is that we can help you find your way back." He finally replied. "Daniel, one of the New Canaanites, has made many maps of the region." Joshua said, then sighed. "The bad news is that we can't help you right now, not with everything that's going on."

Keram-Rei took a step forward. "We came here without a purpose, but you gave us one." He responded, determined. "Tell us what to do."

"You're a good neighbor to us." The Burned Man said, certainly smiling under those bandages. "We all go through periods of darkness. In such times, we can turn to the Lord, but it's good to have friends. Daniel and I need Pre-War tools to help us navigate beyond Zion. Should we need to evacuate, these instruments will be vital to us." He sighed in annoyance. "Normally, we would have one of the Dead Horses or Sorrows look for them, but many Pre-War buildings in the valley are taboo. They won't go inside."

"Follows-Chalk already told us about these taboos." The battlemage said, frowning. "What's wrong with those buildings?"

"The Sorrows believe in a spirit that lives in the caves, say the spirit punished them once for trespassing." Joshua explained, patient. "They put special marks around the cave entrances to keep people out. It doesn't work on the White Legs, of course, but the Dead Horses are spooked."

"We will help you, then." The battlemage finally said, slightly nodding as he walked towards Graham for the Pip-Boy coordinates.

"Thank you. Follows-Chalk can help you find your way around the valley." He suggested as he fiddled with the instrument. "He's inexperienced, but he knows enough of our language to ignore the taboos about Pre-War buildings."

He let the Argonian's arm go, then went back to the weapon maintenance. Keram-Rei nodded in salute, then swiftly walked back to the exit, looking a little at the enigmatic paintings on the walls, and finally exited to meet his friends. Star-Of-The-Marshes and Follows-Chalk, however, were missing.

"Where in Oblivion are those two?" He asked, puzzled.

"Helping some 'Bighorner' calf." Phyrkeetus replied, scowling, his arms crossed, gritting his teeth in… Jealousy? "They should be back by sunset."

Keram-Rei nodded, noticing Screaming-Eagle, Naeera and Eyes-Of-Silver barely holding back giggles. _Paranoid idiot._


	11. Wolf & Raven

**AUTHOR'S NOTE  
>I do NOT own Fallout: New Vegas nor The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, which belong to Bethesda Softworks, nor the songs I may quote during this story, which belong to... Quite a lot of etiquettes, actually. If I did, I doubt I'd ever think about writing something like this.<br>So... Chapter 11. I really have nothing to say about this one, except for the fact I've just noticed my author notes are pretty much the same thing over and over again, which is kinda stupid, since I'm supposed to actually say new stuff, because they're the author's _notes_, not a bad disclaimer of sorts. I'm still thinking about how the Mojave will change after I'll cover the DLCs... We're still a long way to go, I'm still not convinced about what to do or not to do. It will be pretty cool, though. Anyway, I apologize for how bad and little romantic all my romance scenes are, including the one in this chapter, but on the other hand I can't really think of any other way to write them, and they seem to work decently. Write me a review or a PM if you think I could change or improve something, and I'll do my best to be a better writer. As always, "FOR THE EMPEROR!"  
>P.S.: I couldn't find a better song title, forgive me.<br>**

* * *

><p><em>I've had a nightmare,<br>The wolf eating the raven..._

**Sonata Arctica - Wolf & Raven  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>Why does he think she's going to run away with a tribal boy? <em>Eyes-Of-Silver thought, trying to avoid laughing in the assassin's face for the seventh time in a row. The way he bared his teeth, he growled, he talked to himself, he told them to stop having fun… The once-heartless assassin was _jealous_. It was amazing, and somewhere between hilarious and pathetic, although it was certainly closer to the former.

"Why don't you just check on her?" Naeera proposed, amused. "I mean, she's right up the cliffs, you could just literally-"

Phyrkeetus's venomous glance and his obnoxious expression stopped her, and she just sighed. "Idiot." She muttered, rolling her eyes.

"I have to admit your ideas of maiming and torture are really creative, Phyrkeetus." Keram-Rei said, more annoyed than anything. "But Naeera is right, why in Oblivion are you staying here, grumbling and muttering to yourself, while you could simply climb the cliffs and see where they are? The climb isn't even too steep."

"I've had enough!" The assassin snapped, fuming, then turned towards Keram-Rei. "And you, when are you going to stop believing you're the hero of this little adventure, battlemage? Who the fuck said that we have to follow _you_?"

"Panther was the only thing keeping us together, Phyrkeetus." Screaming-Eagle hissed. " He's just trying to make everything work and take her role, he's not the 'hero of this little adventure'. You're always free to propose a better leader."

"I don't need to follow anyone!" He snarled, furious. "I don't have to take anyone's orders, none of us has! If only-"

"Too bad we've been doing that for all our lives." The warrior retorted, crossing his arms on his chest with a challenging grin. "And that also applies to you, assassin."

"Fuck you all." The assassin blurted out, then turned towards the cliffs.

"Oh, what an elaborated argument…" The thief murmured. "Don't worry, Keram, I'm sure he didn't mean it."

The battlemage grinned, shaking his head. "Oh, I know he's just blinded by jealousy and anger to think straight." He said with a chuckle. "He's too busy trying to show he's dangerous and vengeful, but he's just scared and uncertain."

Naeera raised her brow, impressed. "And you know that by listening to his rants?"

"I know that because he and Star-Of-The-Marshes have had a long discussion with me." Keram-Rei replied. "You all know _why_ they've talked to me."

The three of them nodded, putting an end to the argument

As the moon took the place of the sun, the sound of footsteps coming from the cliffs distracted them. Star-Of-The-Marshes and Follows-Chalk both merrily walked towards them, a little dirtier than before, but smiling.

"We've brought the calf back to its mother, and now everything's alright." She said, hugging Phyrkeetus tightly and cutting him short. "Did he behave well?"

"Oh, as usual." Eyes-Of-Silver responded. "Just don't leave him alone with the boy."

Before the assassin could reply with pure venom, the battlemage raised his Pip-Boy, getting everyone's attention. "I've been waiting for you to tell everyone, Star." He told her, then looked at the whole party. "We've got a new task, and we're going to split into three teams to accomplish it. I'm sending you the coordinates for the places we need to search."

Everyone's devices rang with a notification.

"Our targets are three, and separated by at least thirty minutes of walks from each other." He continued, turning a few knobs. "We have a fishing lodge to the north-east, a bus wreck not too far from here, and a tourist shop with an adjacent ranger station, far to the north. The rendezvous point is the Sorrows' canyon, the northernmost location shown on our maps. Description for what we need to take is in the files I've sent you and, to save ourselves time, we're going in couples." Keram-Rei turned towards the tribal boy. "Follows-Chalk, you're coming with me and Screaming-Eagle."

"We will be heading towards the fishing lodge." The ranger decided.

"Bus wreck." Naeera said after a few seconds, raising her hand.

"Very well, we shall reach them at once." Screaming-Eagle finished, and gestured for Eyes-Of-Silver to take the lead.

The first time, he hadn't really noticed how many traps the Dead Horses had set up into the creek. Now that he could count them, he noticed there were at least twenty bear traps ready to spring. They wouldn't have stopped an en masse attack from the White Legs, but they should've definitely deterred any of their scouting teams. The things were very well hidden, barely visible even to him, and went up to the great paintings. When they stepped out of the water, he let Keram-Rei lead them once again, climbing up to the asphalt again.

"It's time to split up, people." The battlemage announced them after a minute of walking. "May the Gods watch over you, friends."

Both the warrior and the thief took a look at the map as the others walked away, separating at a crossroads not too far from them. There was a descent on the other side of the river, after a bridge and a few slopes. _We could easily reach it in no more than five minutes. _He thought, analyzing the map.

"I think the water's high enough, yeah." Naeera considered, her tone suggesting a smile. "Ready, Silver?"

Eyes-Of-Silver slowly took down his device, frowning. "Naeera, what do you mean when you say-"

He was cut short by her pushing them both into the river below. After two endless seconds of freefall, they both hit the water with their backs pretty painfully, but with no major injuries.

The warrior took in a deep breath, trying to calm down. "What in Oblivion were you thinking?"

She didn't reply, her eyes fixed on the shore behind his back. "Something's killed those two insects, something _magic_." She whispered, and he turned to where she was pointing. An unnaturally big black wasp was covered in ice, while a wolf-sized ant was charred black, sand turned to glass for a few metres around it.

"We should get to the bus, silently." He finally whispered, and slowly swam to shore, carefully placing his feet and avoiding any possible noise. There were no further signs of magic down the gorge but, when they could clearly see the bus, they noticed strange clacking sounds and dark purple lights. Even with his eyes, he couldn't make out the source of them.

"Ah, curses!" A raspy voice snapped from behind the wreck, followed by another clack. "There is nothing worth around this bus! And _you_ surely aren't helping, werewolf! Stop standing around and give me a hand."

"It's not my fault if this place is worthless, _vampire_." Another voice, a female one, replied with anger.

The male growled. "Oh, don't you dare use that tone on me, girl! If you just-"

"Shut up." The female said, _sniffing_ the air. "We're not alone. Two, behind the wreck, Argonians."

Eyes-Of-Silver almost growled in annoyance, but thought better of it. "Alright, fine, you got us." He said, resigned, and gestured for Naeera to follow him as he got up. "We were just drawn here by the dead insects, we are not going to..."

He stopped abruptly.

Bones and skeletons were piled up on the other side of the wreck, and he noted in horror they were far too small to be those of adults. Around the macabre pile of dead children stood two Argonians, but something in their movements and their aspect easily gave away their true nature.

The male had pitch-black scales, abnormally long fangs which he bared as he grinned in delight, and two orange eyes which glew from under his black cowl, his black robes swirling around his legs as he walked towards them, a white skull emblazoned on the chest, piercing right through the warrior's soul with its empty sockets. He carried a dagger on his hip, one emanating dark energy, and various staffs showed from behind his shoulders and a bag on his side. By the way his robes hung around him, he was emaciated and stiff, like most vampires he'd had the honor to slay.

The female was shorter than him, but definitely bulkier, her posture more feral. She had blue eyes, small black slits for pupils, and wore bloodred warpaint on her green scales. She had short horns, red feathers and spiked eyebrows on her head. An unusual ebony armor covered her body, which looked like a mixture of plates and chainmail, and wore a Pip-Boy on her wrist. She carried a Dwarven shield and a hammer on her back, a black ebony katana in her right hand, a faint red aura around it, and a wicked steel mace in her left one, glowing a sickly green. Her physical appearance was familiar, strangely so.

The female glared at him as her nostrils flared. "You have refused the gift." She scolded him, grimacing.

"It is a curse, not a gift!" The warrior snarled back, baring his teeth. "I refused to serve Hircine, I refused to share my body with a beast, I refused to live my afterlife as an endless hunt." He grinned mockingly. "But, given the circumstances, I can righteously call you a bitch."

"What an amazing presentation, really!" The male commented, widening his arms and clasping a hand to the werewolf's mouth. "I'm sure we can reason, don't be silly."

Eyes-Of-Silver looked into his glowing eyes. "You're a necromancer _and_ a vampire, she's a werewolf, not to mention the fact you're servants of the Daedra." He growled, sneering in challenge. "This is off to a bad start already."

The female snorted. "That, I can agree with."

"I'll just pretend I didn't hear that." The necromancer said, raising his sleeve and showing a Pip-Boy. "We know everything we need about this barren wasteland, why don't we just work together? I'm sure we would make an excellent team."

The thief pointed at the bone mound in horror. "Y-you've killed those _children_…"

"Bah, don't be ridiculous!" He said, waving her off. "They've been dead for two hundred and four years, I was just looking for servants. I always bring some with me. These, however, are... unfit. Too small, perhaps useful in numbers."

"I can't believe somebody as insane as you could be a Dragonborn." The warrior commented, grimacing. "But then again, we have Phyrkeetus…"

The vampire turned towards him at once, fixing his eyes into his. "What did you just say?"

"Phyrkeetus..." He slowly replied, narrowing his eyes. "He's a Shadowscale, taken from his family the night after his birth."

"Describe him." The other ordered, getting far too close for his liking.

"He's, uhm, as tall as you, grumpy for most of the time, dark scales, no horns, no feathers, red eyes..." He shook his head. "Actually, scratch that, they're purple now."

"Impossible." The necromancer snapped, blank-faced.

"How are you supposed to know?" Naeera asked him, narrowing her eyes. "Have you even met him?"

"I believe..." He began, baring his fangs. "I believe I should know my own brother."

The temperature dropped at least ten degrees below zero.

Eyes-Of-Silver thought his jaw was about to fall off. "Your… your brother?"

The other nodded. "He was never taken by anybody, he's lived with his family, _our_ family, for his childhood. But then, he fell off a cliff while we were playing." The vampire said, grim. "He was seven years old, I was twelve. I was supposed to take care of him, and yet…" He gritted his teeth. "And now you come and tell me he's still alive?"  
><em><br>Different realities._ The warrior thought, shocked, then had an idea. He brought up his Pip-Boy, taking the communications screen and making a call. Seconds passed, and he feared he wouldn't answer, but then the sounds of a fight came over his device.

"_What the fuck do you want, Eyes-Of-Silver?_" A voice blurted out from the device, clearly annoyed by both his call and something that snarled.

"We've, uhm…" He straightened up, clearing his throat. "We've got somebody you might want to meet, Phyrkeetus. There's two more of us."

"_Well, that's great!_" The assassin said, sarcastical, as some sort of creature gave a sickening screech, followed by a thud. "_You could've just called Keram, idiot._"

The werewolf raised her head, suddenly interested, all the boldness gone from her posture. "Keram-Rei?"

The warrior nodded, raising his brow, then focused on the arm-device. "You know what? Doesn't matter, we'll meet at the Narrows' entrance."

"_Thanks for wasting my time._" The other growled, and the device fell silent.

The vampire sounded pleased with his brother's response. "Yes, yes, his attitude... Of course, different worlds, of course!" He cheered, letting out a cold laugh. "It makes sense now, my little brother..."

Nobody spoke for a full minute, either looking around or walking back and forth. _Gods, I knew we come from different worlds, but the same ones under different circumstances?_ He thought, still amazed by the news. _And why was she so interested in Keram-Rei?_

The thief cleared her throat, visibly uncomfortable. "We should be looking for, uhm…"

"A compass?" The female werewolf completed, taking one from a satchel on her hip. "Yes, there was something about it on our device."

The warrior took it from her hand, managing a smile. "Good, then we can just head for the canyon, can we?"

"Will Keram-Rei be there?" The female asked, narrowing her eyes.

He shrugged, raising his brow. "At worst, we'll have to wait for him."

She nodded, and gestured for him to make way. They crossed the small river and reached back to the shore, climbing the steep descent and getting back on the cracked road. According to the Zion Canyon map, they had to cross a bridge to the other side and follow the road all the way north. He could clearly see the bridge, along with the dead Yao Guai hanging from its side, the railing bent under the body's weight, melted and blackened all around it. The battlemage was really good at wreaking havoc, when he wanted to.

"What are your names?" The warrior asked as they kept walking.

"I am Treads-In-Gloom." The necromancer said in his raspy voice.

"Aphatea." The werewolf sighed.

"Well, I am Eyes-Of-Silver." He replied, trying to sound as welcoming as possible. "And she is Naeera. Although they aren't here, we've got Phyrkeetus and Keram-Rei, as you should've noticed, and then Screaming-Eagle and Star-Of-The-Marshes. We're all Dragonborn, just like you two."

"That is quite interesting, I will admit." Treads-In-Gloom said, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "As I understand, we come from different planes of existance, and you are six. Is this connected in any way to the Guardian Stones? You're a Warrior, she's a Thief, and my brother was obsessed with magic and sneaking. Now it is clear to me that, trained as a Shadowscale, he's found a road as an Assassin." He grinned. "The three basic stones, plus the three mixes. You should have a Mage, a... a _Battlemage_..." He growled, grimacing in disgust. "And finally some sort of ranged weapons specialist, correct?"

"That was amazing." The warrior said, chuckling. "Yes, you're right, but there's a problem about you two."

"Although I don't like siding with a refuser, you're right." Aphatea sighed, rolling her eyes. "No Stones for us."

"There are stars for them, though." The vampire replied, humming in satisfaction. "Warrior, Thief and Mage have large nebulas, of course, but we should think about the small constellation of the Vampire Lord, and as for the Werewolf... Well, there are the moons. Yes, yes, it makes perfect sense now..."

They kept walking north under the night sky, silence all around them. The pale moonlight shone on the imposing cliffs, which shrouded the valleys with their black shadows. There was just a lonely dog not too far from them, a mongrel, by the looks of it, running back and forth next to a bush and dead trees. Either stray, or…

Bullets bounced off his armor as he and the others scrambled for cover, and ended up being pinned behind a large boulder. _Or an ambush._

Treads-In-Gloom, however, was laughing in delight, stanning in the middle of the road. "Yes, finally!" He shouted as he burned down the dog, then took out two White Legs from behind their cover with a telekinesis spell. The tribals screamed in fear as they hovered in front of him, landing with a thud. They were a man and a woman, maybe a little young to fight, too frightened to move, pleading and crying in their language.

"What in Oblivion…" The warrior began, then stopped in disgust. _Vampire._

The necromancer cheerfully grabbed the boy and buried his fangs into his neck, sucking away his blood for ten endless seconds, before finally letting him go and taking his dagger, ultimately cutting the tribal's throat with it.

The girl screamed and sobbed, desperately shaking and hugging the other's lifeless corpse, resting her head on his chest. The vampire tilted his head, definitely in amusement, then pulled a staff from his back. It was dark, long, its tip engraved with the faces of three screaming men. He pointed it at her forehead, then pushed gently. The girl exploded in a shower of blood and gore, a sizzling puddle of red pulp everything that remained of her, and during all that the necromancer just laughed.

"Gods, this is far beyond cruel..." The warrior muttered, suppressing the urge to throw up.

"I know, he's a fucking monster." Aphatea muttered, disgusted. "Can't believe I haven't killed him when I could've…"

"His brother wasn't much better, trust me." Naeera replied as she clutched at her stomach, grimacing.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Treads-In-Gloom called, enthusiastic, blood dripping from his fangs into the skull, as if it were crying blood from its void sockets. The Argonian's smile was unsettling, to say the least, and his glowing eyes surely didn't help. Despite her covenant with Hircine, at least the werewolf was normal.  
><em><br>I preferred Phyrkeetus. _Eyes-Of-Silver thought, reluctantly getting up and leading them back north. _The old, crazy one._

The walk was oppressively quiet, the cold desert night even colder with their two new friends, and surely the thought of presenting a necromancer to Keram-Rei was contributing. The other, Aphatea, might have helped in some way, given her knowledge of the battlemage, and the fact she didn't raise the dead for fun. _Why did we have to end up with the creepy relative? Just why?_ The warrior managed to think, letting out a heavy sigh. _A fight would've been better. We could've killed him, and we could've saved ourselves a lot of problems._

Finally, just finally, a river and the wrecks of a trailer park came into sight, the entrance of a canyon not too far to the right, past the East Virgin. Corpses of giant lizard-like creatures were strewn all over the road, sign that he could've shared this madness with at least two others. They crossed a bridge, rotten planks creaking dangerously under their weight, and entered the park. Phyrkeetus and Star-Of-The-Marshes were waiting inside, silent.

"Are these two the reason you called me and not Keram?" The assassin asked as they got closer, eyeing the newcomers suspiciously and baring his teeth. "A werewolf and a vampire... How cute." He turned towards him. "Did you at least call Keram-Rei?"

Eyes-Of-Silver scratched his neck, cursing inwardly. "No, I… I forgot to warn him."

"I'm trying really hard not to be an asshole, but you surely aren't helping me, do you know that?" He growled, but was cut short by the necromancer's stare. "Get your eyes off me, vampire. I'm not a prey of yours."

"Amazing, you really look like him… Except for the eyes, of course." The other muttered, ignoring him completely. "Yes, it is true, then..."

Phyrkeetus gripped his dagger, uncomfortable. "Speak clearly, bloodsucker!"

The vampire let out a laugh, his smile showing his fangs. "Oh, yes, you definitely _are_ my little brother."

The assassin's eyes widened in shock, then he shook his head. "No, it's not possible, my family was killed by the Shadowscales, you…"

Treads-In-Gloom laid a hand on his shoulder, grinning. "In your world, perhaps." He interrupted him. "Remember, we come from different realities, little brother. From my point of view, the Shadowscales never came for you, since _I_ was the Dragonborn. You died as a child, falling off a cliff right before my eyes." He snorted in amusement, gesturing at the skull on his robes. "I desperately looked for ways to bring you back, and ultimately became what I am today. Oh, look at you... An assassin! Simply outstanding!"

The warrior didn't know if Phyrkeetus could feel a sentiment such as shock. If he was faking, however, he was pretty convincing. The ranger had clenched a hand to her mouth in daze, her eyes darting between the assassin and the necromancer.

Treads-In-Gloom widened his arms with a broad smile and hugged his long-lost brother, much to the latter's surprise, which yelped. "You must've become a fearsome assassin during these years." The other said, . "I am very proud of you, Phyrkeetus. And so you should be, after all."

Phyrkeetus snapped out of the initial surprise with a growl, wriggling away and readying what looked like a fire spell, his teeth bared. "I am _not_ proud of what I've done, you crazy bastard!" He shouted, furious. "I do not know you, and I'm glad you died that night! A necromancer, a vampire, for a brother..."

The vampire sighed and shook his head. "What a shame… And I thought you would've been as satisfied as I am with your past deeds." He turned towards the ranger, his eyes narrowed. "It is her fault, isn't it?"

"It's not her fault!" The assassin shouted, casting a spell at Treads-In-Gloom, who evaded it easily. "She has helped me out of all this murderous nonsense! It's thanks to her I've began redeeming myself!"

"She has wasted your potential, she hasn't helped you in any way." His brother replied, deadpan, as a purple glow began pulsing in his hands. "She is but an obstacle, and as such she must be _eliminated_."

Phyrkeetus snorted, fire streaking on his arms. "Over my dead body."

The warrior closed his eyes, sighing. At best, one of the two was going to die. At worst, they were all going to be killed by Treads-In-Gloom, probably with his Daedric staff and a laugh, with him staring right into their soul with those glowing orange eyes. None of those was particularly appealing, except for the vampire's death. That would've been really pleasant, actually.

"A new guest, and you already pick fights, Phyrkeetus?"

Eyes-Of-Silver turned, and saw Keram-Rei standing next to the trailer park's entrance, a grin on his face, followed by Screaming-Eagle and Follows-Chalk. There was a little blood on their boots, but other than that, they looked fine.

"It's not really nice, don't you think?" He continued, getting between the two. "Now, would you be as kind as to…"

"My name is Treads-In-Gloom, _battlemage_." The necromancer hissed, putting an incredible amount of contempt in the last word. "Mixing sword and arcane arts… You really are a bastard fighter, an impure mixture of different styles, a mistake, a-"

"I'm sure feasting with blood and raising the dead is much more honorable, _vampire_." He retorted, bringing his sword to the other's throat, as fast as lightning. "Give me a reason not to put an end to your miserable life right now, servant of the dark."

Treads-In-Gloom laughed, a cold, heartless sound which echoed through the night. "Oh, just let me know my little brother better, then we shall decide."

"Don't you dare get any closer to me!" The assassin shouted, furious.

The battlemage slowly brought down his blade, snorting. "Different realities, of course. I am going to give you time up until the completion of our quest. By then, you'd better give me a good reason, necromancer." He announced, glaring at him.

"Oh, don't you worry." The other replied, baring his fangs as he grinned.

Keram-Rei looked at them. "We usually come in pairs. Where's the other?"

A loud sob was his answer. The warrior turned around and, in the dim moonlight, he saw the werewolf on her knees, crying, a faint smile on her face. The battlemage hesitated, then kneeled before her, lifting her chin with a hand.

"What's your name?" He asked, gentle.

She didn't answer, instead crying even harder.

The battlemage cast a warm light on the ground, looked at her for a few seconds, then laughed and hugged her tightly, much to Eagle's annoyance.

"Who is she?" The mage asked, narrowing her eyes on the two.

When Keram-Rei let Aphatea go and helped her to her feet, Eyes-Of-Silver choked.

They were _identical_. Eyes, feathers, scales, eyebrows, horns, their head… That's why she'd looked familiar, she looked like _him_. She was the female, bulky, lycanthrope version of the battlemage. It looked like someone had taken him, covered him in Daedric artifacts, and turned him into a girl.

"She's my twin sister, Aphatea." He announced, beaming, a tear on his cheek. "I believe we have both died at Helgen, in our respective realities. You smell like of wet dogs, though."

She giggled, hugging her brother even tighter than before. "Werewolf."  
><em><br>Family reunions, hooray._ The warrior thought with a grin, looking at how happy the two were, compared to how Phyrkeetus and Treads-In-Gloom had reacted. The former was glaring at him in pure hatred, while the latter was smiling defiantly at his younger brother, plotting Gods-knew-what in his twisted mind. _Whatever it is, it probably involves death, pain, and skeletons._

When Aphatea let her brother go, Eyes-Of-Silver took the chance slowly walked towards her, careful not to look into her eyes. "I'm, uhm… I'm sorry for calling you a bitch. You know, earlier."

She smiled, waving him off. "Sorry for acting like one, then. Any friend of Keram is a friend of mine." She let out her hand. "Friends?"

He smiled as he shook it. "Friends."

"Shame you don't like therianthropy." She said, tilting her head. "You would've made an amazing werebear, trust me."

The warrior grimaced. "I despise all Daedras, but Hircine holds the first place. I don't like the idea of my soul being bound to him." He explained, crossing his arms on his chest. "And I've never liked the feel of the howling beast inside of me, always hungry, raging, my sleep haunted by nightmares..."

"Fair enough, you've got a point." Aphatea replied, nodding apprehensively. "If you ever change your mind..."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Not going to happen."

"Alright people!" Keram-Rei shouted in the middle of the park. "We're entering the Narrows!"

* * *

><p>He'd already earned everyone's hatred, including that of the cocky battlemage. <em>Oh, I'm beginning to feel at home.<em> Treads-In-Gloom thought, sighing in nostalgia. Not that the others' opinions actually mattered to him, no, of course not, he was just used to the feeling, and he liked it. It made him focus better on his mission, actually. Women found him repulsive, men brought an hand to their weapons, children were absolutely frightened… Basically, nobody dared speaking with him, keeping at least ten feet of distance from him. _And it feels great._

He'd found his place atop a boulder, perching on it and observing at the 'Sorrows', who stared at him as if he were some sort of demon. The young tribal who'd been following them, Chalk-Follower or something, had gone away just after they'd reached the canyon, not before having a litte talk with them about 'civilized lands' and that sort of nonsense. Keram-Rei had replied with something about family and duty. _Bah, warriors and their honour._ The vampire thought, sneering._ Go figure._

The battlemage and the mage were speaking with a man called Daniel, a political and religious leader of sorts. The bulky warrior had followed a bald woman to a shaman, the short thief always at his side (probably his minion), and had walked away shortly after with a strange fire in his eyes, fiercely gripping his crude Dragonbone hammer. The werewolf had simply disappeared, probably to satisfy her feral instincts, no different than any other beast he'd met during his travels.

No, now he was worried about his younger brother, engaged in deep conversation with that ranger whore he'd unfortunately fallen in love with, smiling and laughing. _She is the responsible for his unacceptable behaviour, I'm sure._ He thought, gritting his teeth. _She has ruined a potentially perfect assassin…_

Oh, no doubt he could've strangled her with her own bow. This way, little Phyrkeetus would've gone insane once again, fuelled by grief and hatred, and it would've put him back on the right path. The others were probably going to kill him, though, preventing him from carrying on with his plans. Well, he could've always tried his lich plan, but he'd have needed ten more years to do that.

So there he sat, sighing and looking at his ruined brother. Those two had even started _making out_… The vampire snorted, baring his fangs in disgust and scaring a tribesman away.

He was distracted from his thoughts by the sound of sweet discord: it looked like the battlemage, the bald woman and Daniel had started an argument, and a pretty heated one, too. The necromancer jumped down, slowly sneaking up behind them. People's disagreement and hatred always cheered him up.

* * *

><p>He'd tried Skooma once, but it was nothing compared to the shaman's concoction. <em>Why do tribal things always have to be filled to the brim with drugs?<em>

Eyes-Of-Silver crossed the river in an instant, Naeera following at a safe distance as he crushed giant geckos and rats, his vision blurry, but he was perfectly lucid, only… angrier, maybe? He couldn't tell, but smashing creatures with his hammer was definitely more enjoyable than it was before. It probably affected his whole behaviour, it felt like being a werewolf all over again. This time, however, it was enjoyable.

His senses told him to enter a nearby canyon, it felt like the right choice. The smell was strong, foul, like that of rotten plants and burned meat. There, he was greeted by a barrage of acid spits and crawling green monsters, so he took away his hammer and grabbed his grenade MG. _Time to put it to good use._

The warrior pulled the trigger, and felt a rush of adrenaline as volleys of grenades began hammering and tearing apart the monsters and overgrown plants, splattering thousands of pieces all around him, explosions cracking and shattering the sandstone around, up until only the disappointing clicks of his empty weapon could be heard. He groaned in annoyance, took away the useless clip and shoved in a new one, but there was nothing else to fight. He strapped the enormous heavy weapon to his back, taking his warhammer once again.

After a short climb, Eyes-Of-Silver grinned. Half a dozen of Yao Guai were waiting for them.

He roared and charged them, smashing the heads of two beasts before being forced to parry the biggest one's blow. The mutated bear staggered in surprise and fell on its back, and the warrior brought down his hammer onto its chest, shattering its ribcage and crushing the organs inside as the monster let out an agonizing bellow. He jumped down and dispatched the remaining three with ease, lifting one's carcass and throwing it at them with a blood-chilling roar. He managed to ignore Naeera's intent stare and the smell of pheromones she radiated, and kept walking through the narrow spaces.

The moment he reached a dead end, his senses were overwhelmed, his scales itched, his nostrils were filled with a pungent smell of smoke, his vision was turning an even darker shade of red, growls and roars filled the air all around…

A flaming Yao Guai dropped from the cliffs, standing on its hind legs and roaring. The warrior dropped his hammer and bellowed in challenge, then headed straight for it as it charged him. He leapt to his side, incredibly agile for an Argonian like himself, and pushed the Ghost Of She towards a nearby boulder, breaking its ribs with his armored shoulders and his heavy gauntlets, ignoring the scorching flames engulfing him. The beast thrashed and fought, but he felt stronger, and slammed it into the wall of the gorge, shattering the ribcage on impact.

Still, the monster threw him aside and roared again, this time pained, before hitting him square on the chest. His armor absorbed most of the impact, but he could tell a couple of ribs weren't supposed to feel like that. He got back to his feet, snarling and ignoring the pain, and broke one of its back paws, Ghost Of She rearing up in defeat. He sprung like a snake and grabbed the creature's jaw, unhinging it and ripping it off, tearing away its tongue, blood covering his armor and his face. The Yao Guai made an agonized whine, then he dragged down its head and elbowed it again, and again, and again, up until bone splinters and brains covered his right arm.

Panting from the fight and the pain that flared in his chest, he moved the flaming carcass aside and got hold of its two front paws, a foot on the creature's chest, and pulled with all his strenght. Muscles began to rip, bones started cracking, tendons slowly failing and disconnecting, and then the two paws finally came off.

Eyes-Of-Silver bellowed in triumph, then turned to take the way again to the shaman and tell the news. The look Naeera gave him as he marched, her smell more intense than before... He shook his head, keeping his instincts at bay as he stormed through the gorges and into the river. The warrior knew exactly where to step, what rocks to avoid, what trail to follow, where the traps were, and finally reached for the Narrows. The warrior headed to White Bird's cave, satisfied by the looks the tribals gave him as he walked.

The shaman's cave was as shallow as he'd last seen it, but the red in his vision was beginning to vanish, letting him see more clearly, his senses were turning back to normal, and the flame inside of him was fading away, leaving him with an amazingly sharp pain in his chest and a devastating headache. _Definitely more than a couple of ribs._ He thought, coughing up blood and flinching.

The old man walked up to him expectantly. "Does Ghost of She lie quiet in grave?" He asked in his thick tribal accent.

The warrior brought up the beast's paws and gave them to him.

White Bird nodded in approval. "Then visions of truth are at an end." He looked at him, inquisitive. "Will you learn from the truth? Maybe yes. Maybe no. Only for you to decide."

The shaman shoved a gauntlet into each paw, fixing them with some sort of metal rings and structures. "Here, take. Gift, to remind you of visions. Use well. Or sell to curio trader. Either way, says much about you."

Eyes-Of-Silver nodded in thanks, then gave both the weaponized gauntlets to Naeera. She frowned, hesitantly looking at him.

"Take them, my hands are more than enough." He said, shrugging. "Besides, they're too small for me."

The thief slowly nodded and stuffed the weapons in her satchel, following him outside of the cave. Now, the pain in his chest had flared up even more, and was barely bearable. He was desperately looking for Screaming-Eagle, or even Keram-Rei for all that mattered, only someone to heal him, since he had no more potions. They were nowhere to be seen, not in the caves, not around the camp, not near the waterfalls… _Why in Oblivion did they need some time together right _now_? _He thought, feeling the taste of blood in his mouth as it dripped on his chin and his neck. He coughed again, covering half of his chestplate in red, and sat onto a nearby rock, exhausted by the pain and the bloodloss.

"Woah, big guy, you look like you've wrestled a bear." A familiarly annoying voice called. He'd never been so happy to hear it.

He turned, and saw Phyrkeetus walking towards him, a worried Star-Of-The-Marshes at his side.

"I did wrestle a bear…" He croaked, coughing up more blood, his vision darker with every second passing. "I feel something's wrong..."

The assassin snorted, a golden light shrouding his arms. "Glad you noticed something's wrong, Praefect Obvious." He muttered as he held him still, and the warrior could feel his ribs slowly welding back together, the sharp pain gradually replaced by a burning, a tingling sensation and then by numbness. Everything was over in a minute, and he could finally breathe again without feeling daggers buried in his chest

"There, done." Phyrkeetus blurted out, wiping his hands and scowling at him. "You've broken at least a dozen ribs, and I have no idea how your sternum was still holding together. Not to mention the condition of your organs, of course. Spleen and liver? Gone! Stomach and intestines lacerated, lungs were beginning to flood with blood, and your heart was almost crushed in all that mess. Oh, and I almost forgot the radiation sickness." He took in a deep breath, staring into his eyes. "What in Oblivion possessed you to fight a radioactive bear, you gigantic idiot?"

Eyes-Of-Silver scratched his neck, looking at his boots. "I have, uhm, taken some sort of drug…"

"What sort of drug?" The assassin interrupted, his scowl deeper.

"A tribal tea or something." He replied, and the other growled. "Anyway, I've killed about four Yao Guai…"

"Six." The thief corrected him.

"Yes, six of them." He said, rolling his eyes. "Then a really big one shows up, all covered in flames, and so I fight him..."

Phyrkeetus sighed. "I already know the answer, but…" He sighed, massaging his temples. "How exactly did you fight it?"

He lowered his head, not daring to look into his eyes. "Bare-handed. Well, actually, 'bear-handed', you know..."

The assassin was dumbstruck, but soon rage took the place of daze. "BARE-HANDED?!" He roared.

And so the rant went on and on and on, each and every word making him feel guiltier as he pictured his death in his mind. He wasn't actually afraid of death, no, he'd gotten close to it so many times... He was afraid of what might have happened after his death that scared him. The idea of Naeera all alone, crying over his corpse like that White Leg girl… He almost shuddered at the thought as she squeezed his hand.

"You know what? Fuck off!" Phyrkeetus said and stormed off, followed by the ranger.

Naeera tugged at his arm, and he met her eyes. "That was great." She whispered, smiling broadly like she always did. "Follow me, come on."

He nodded with a smile, knowing his fight was going to be the matter of yet another debate. Before the caravan incident, they'd always spent their nights looking at the stars and talking, mostly about their lives or those novels they'd found packed with the other books. And yet, however childlike and innocent she might've looked like, she was insanely smart, sometimes even creepy. He took her hand in his, which was at least twice its size. They looked ridiculous together, given the fact he was nearly two feet taller than her, but neither of them really minded.

She brought him to a hidden, small path which sloped around and through the Narrows, slightly turned and finally led them over the cliffs, overlooking the whole canyon, the waters and the waterfalls glistening a bright silver under the moon and the stars. Everything was flat, except for the occasional rock sticking out of the ground. The only thing above them was beautiful the night sky, not even a cloud breaking the harmony of it.

"This place is amazing…" Eyes-Of-Silver muttered, and couldn't help but smile. "When did you find it?"

"Oh, when we came back." She replied, putting on her most innocent face. "I thought going alone wasn't safe, so..."

Eyes-Of-Silver laughed, shaking his head. "Why have you brought me here, anyway?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

She pulled his hand, smiling as she looked up at him. Alright, maybe the warrior didn't know his answer. She'd never done that before.

Naeera gently caressed his head, seemingly focused on his old wounds. She ran a finger over his largest scars and missing spikes, her expression unreadable, her two golden eyes fixed on what she was doing. "There's a story behind each scar, right?" The thief whispered, interested in a particularly large one which continued on his neck, then was covered by his chestplate. She pushed a small button only he knew of, being the armor's designer, located right between his neck and the metal plating, made to make sure he could easily take off and put on his armor. The cuirass fell off, followed by the bracers and gauntlets.

He swallowed, nervous. _Now_ he knew the answer.

"Yes, I know." He sighed, closing his eyes. "If each scar has a story to tell, then I'm a damned saga."

Naeera giggled, looking at his chest. He'd always thought it was a horrible sight, half of his scales hadn't reformed correctly because of the posions, so he was covered in lighter streaks of flesh and badly cured wounds, some of his scales had even peeled off when he'd been hit by magic. She, however, seemed to ignore how hideous he was, running her hand over his ripping muscles, trained by the constant fights and his activity at the forges. He smiled, and locked eyes with her. He could see her childish curiosity, alway there, but he also noticed how intense her stare was, filled with emotions he'd never thought directed at him.

The thief smiled back, before dragging her hands on both of his hips, where he'd placed the other removal buttons. With a slight clank, his greaves fell to the ground, leaving him with only a large loincloth on. He'd always thought he would've been extremely embarassed and shy when the time would've come, but he just felt relaxed. She knew him perfectly, and so did he.

The warrior delicately put his large hands on her shoulders, and was surprised at how soft the armor was to the touch, and at how it slid down gently from her body and fell down. The surprise was nothing compared to what he saw.

"I have my share of stories, too." She murmured, her whole body covered in small scars, either as large as a dagger's blade or as an arrow's tip. Someone had even tried to cut her throat, then another wound directly below her heart...

"We've gone through so much pain, Silver." Naeera continued, smiling faintly. "Nobody wanted us, nobody helped us... Yet, we've found friends in the Mojave, someone who actually likes us. And there's more to it."

She softly pushed Eyes-Of-Silver to the ground, and he quietly obliged.

"We've found each other."

* * *

><p><em>I am never, ever, going to follow unknown paths again.<em> Treads-In-Gloom thought, intensely looking at the boulder he sat in front of, his eyes wide. He'd barely noticed the small walkway between the cliffs, nearly missing it, and so curiosity got over him.

Needless to say, he'd been beaten to it.

He thought the thief was the big man's minion, not his _fiancée_, and even for that they'd gotten _far_ too intimate. It was obvious there was something between the battlemage and the mage, and he'd known his little brother loved that ranger since he'd seen them in the trailer park. But the warrior and the thief… He shuddered. _Think about death._ The vampire thought, nodding and wrapping his arms around his knees. _Yes, death, blood, gore, corpses…_


End file.
